How the Other Half Lived
by DeeLeeTeedWriter
Summary: Everybody lies. Oh, what tangled web we weave. House is faced with a harsh reality that he might not know Lisa Cuddy as much as he thought. A life he'd never suspected. One woman, seemingly a thousand lies, two lives, one hidden and a web of secrets. HCu
1. Chapter 1: Ain't Too Proud to Beg

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: There was more to Lisa Cuddy than anyone ever thought and now, when an old ghost comes back into her life, they're about to learn more about the Dean of Medicine. What secrets she hides, what tangled webs lay underneath the surface. Time is running out, she has to go now. She's out of time, she needs to go. Will they let him? Will he let her? Is he willing to lay everything on the line for her, just to make her stay?

Rating: T. Just in case.

Spoilers/Timeline: Post episode 'Let them eat cake' and will continue on along the same timeline which means Cuddy's office is a-okay now and fabulous. Some scenes from the show will be used in this story, but you've seen my Disclaimer and that should cover it.

Note: My first fic so be free to be free with your comments. If you like say so, if not then say so anyway. At least I'll know if it's worth continuing and I'm okay with not so pleasant comments, as long as they are fair and related to this story. I give you the right to criticize, but I reserve the right to react if you ever use the 'Review' button as just a way to lash out just because you don't like this ship or any other frustration you may have that is unrelated to my story.

Also, I am uber gay for Lisa Cuddy/Lisa Edelstein so this will be a Cuddy-overdose and I'll be making my own Cuddy-back-story which will be…different. At least, I hope so.

Chapter One: Ain't Too Proud to Beg

The sun was shining up and high on a typical Thursday above Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, bathing the halls in warm sunlight through the glass walls despite the cool weather of the December air, as Cody Gomez swept across through the main lobby, through the already bustling Clinic and finally through a set of glass doors. Smiling contentedly, she set a pile of papers onto her desk and sat down, smoothing her pleated blue skirt before taking her seat.

Moving her mouse, she watched the hospital logo disappear and immediately show the work she was still working on at the moment. Taking a sip from her coffee, she set her mug back down and continued her work.

Nearly on her fourth week working in Princeton-Plainsboro, Cody could easily claim she was happy. She knew well about the barrage of assistants that passed before her, most of them not lasting more than a few weeks because they simply could not cut it working under the Dean of Medicine. It was not because of the dean, of course, Cody would defend that because it was really just a hard job to do since there was simply much too much work for one person.

Even for a trained assistant with years of experience under their belt.

As of the moment, it was still a mystery to the brown-eyed Mexican-born twenty-one-year-old Cody (and the rest of the agency) how one person, the _female _Chief Administrator and Dean of Medicine of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, managed to hold up such a crushing job.

Sure, paper-pushing looked easier than holding real lives in your hands, but what did outsiders really know? Cody thought, imagining all the paper work the Dean sent out for her each day, giving her just a portion of it, she was sure, than what she was really working on alone. Add to that all the donors the dean was trying to deal with alongside the doctors and the staff and maintaining the hospital and keeping the board happy.

Plus Cody had met, several times already, the misanthropic bane of the Dean's existence—Gregory House—her head of Diagnostics who seemed set out to make her life ten million times harder than it already was just for the sheer fun of it.

Cody had already lost count how many distraught patients and family members came in demanding to talk to the boss of the hospital after one or ten mishaps or insults from Dr. House. As of the moment, from the time she was hired, Cody had already called the lawyers for a meeting with the Dean in a total of four times for a lawsuit.

Shaking her head, Cody continued to write a letter to inform Dr. Andrea Matthews, the head of the Maternity and Neo-natal Wing, that the Patterson couple had finally confirmed that they were donating money to expand the NICU and get new equipments and machines to improve the wing. Cody knew Dr. Matthews, the beautiful redhead who adored babies, had been asking for updates lately, excited and anxious. She would be very happy, Cody thought. Another goal reached, all thanks to the Dean, Dr. Lisa Cuddy, who at the moment was already in her office, drafting the proposals and plans for the said plans.

It was things like this that made Cody wonder how a person like Dr. Cuddy could make a successful job stay successful and stay so…alive at the same time.

By then, from the history Cody had heard around before even taking the job, that the Dean had been the second-youngest and had been the first woman to take such a prestigious position, she'd known without meeting the woman she would be someone to admire. Cody had her guesses at first, but she hadn't expected the woman to look the way she did.

Petite and beautiful, Dr. Lisa Cuddy had welcomed her into her sunny office with a smile dressed in a stylish but very professional silk blouse, blazer, knee-length skirt and black pumps. Cody had noted, after admiring the woman's beauty that she knew how to dress well. Dress well and expensive, she added in mind, as she recognized the shoes to be Christian Louboutins (the same pair she had ogled just a few days prior). But by then, she'd believed having a high paying job like that probably didn't hurt to walk the streets of Manhattan and stroll through the shops once in a while anyway.

She wouldn't say it to anyone, but Cody had expected to meet a weird, detached, work-driven woman, possibly a little less fun when it comes to dressing and probably boring and old looking. Instead, she'd been welcomed by the lovely dean, chatty, outgoing, bright and pleasant. Within a few days of working for the woman, Cody had noted she loved to smile and laughed easily.

To say Dr. Cuddy surprised the younger woman was an understatement.

As of the moment, Dr. Lisa Cuddy was on Cody's 'people to look up to' list. She wouldn't mind being her someday. It seemed so great to be _someone_.

Who wouldn't look up to her, she wondered. The hospital had been recently hijacked, just a few days before Dr. Cuddy hired her, leaving her office a mess with blood, writings on the wall and broken and damaged furniture. You'd think the woman would have cracked, but no, Brenda had told Cody that within hours after the whole incident, the dean had scheduled a work crew to work on her office renovation and repairs. The job had been done under watchful eye while Dr. Cuddy tried to reign in her rogue Diagnostician at the same time while she shared his office.

This was Cody's and Cuddy's third week in the recently renovated office. It was hard enough working in Dr. House's office with his and Dr. Cuddy's head butting and bickering, but the tension and flirting in the middle only made matters weirder and harder. Cody liked to work in peace.

The man was obviously crazy, Dr. Cuddy was putting up with it, why? Cody didn't know, but, sometimes, it was sure as hell fun to watch them.

Although it was quite terrifying watching them actually scream at each other like they hated each truly where Dr. House's ears would turn red, Dr. Cuddy's eyes would turn a terrifying shade of gray from her normal grayish-blue and then have the head of Oncology, Dr. House's best friend and _only _friend, Dr. James Wilson walk in and intervene, sometimes looking as angry if not, then looking exhausted or annoyed.

Quite possibly, working in that office was the longest three days of Cody Gomez's life.

With tapping fingers on the keyboard, Cody continued her morning's work, ready to be at Dr. Cuddy's call…and to possibly try and block Dr. House's attempts to barge in.

Of course, she always failed, but it was worth a shot, as long as Dr. Cuddy knew someone, at the very least, tried to help her.

Five minutes later, just as Cody Gomez was about to send out the email, a shadow loomed over her desk…a tall shadow.

-o0o-

"Dr. Hou…" Cody began, looking up, ready with the poker face she had picked up from Dr. Cuddy and tried to copy…only to have it fall from her face as she noticed it _was not _Dr. House. "Oh. Hello. Good morning," she smiled welcomingly at the tall and _handsome _shadow in front of her desk. "I'm Cody Gomez, Dr. Cuddy's assistant. How may I help you?"

The man smiled, his green eyes piercingly beautiful falling on hers. "Hi, Ms. Gomez, I was wondering if Dr. Cuddy was available for visitors?"

Cody smiled, somewhat apologetically. "I'm sorry, but Dr. Cuddy has specifically said she will not be taking visitors for this morning. She's quite busy at the moment, Mr…"

"Oh," the man said, smiling charmingly, his white teeth gleaming. "Right, but could you…" he lowered his head as if sharing a secret with her, despite the fact that they were alone, the glass doors closed behind him and the doors to the main office closed as well. "Tell her Nathan Winslow is here for…a visit."

With a charming smile and a wink, Cody melted, pressing the line linking her to the dean's office.

_Damn_, she _really _needed to work on her 'Dr.-Cuddy-fierce' copy more.

"Yes?" came Cuddy's distracted voice on the speaker.

"Dr. Cuddy, there's a visitor for you," Cody said, smiling at Nathan. "He's asking for just…" she smiled wider when the said visitor showed his thumb and pointer finger, a small gap in between with a puppy-dog look. _Not bad, for over thirty-five, _Cody thought. "A tiny bit of your time."

"Is it House? No, can't be…He'd have burst in…" came the distracted muttering.

"It's a Mr. Winslow, Dr. Cuddy," Cody cut in. "Nathan Win—"

"What?" it sounded more like a shriek.

Cody looked up at Nathan, shocked. The woman only ever shrieked like that when House was involved. Was this House's brother? _God, no!_

A few moments later, Cuddy's voice broke in, crisp and stiff. "Send him in."

Cody looked at Nathan who smiled. He must have seen the worried look on her face. "It's all right, dear, she's just…happy I'm visiting."

Cody nodded, wordlessly as the beautiful man sauntered away with a flying kiss, entering the office with ease and grace, as if he belonged there.

_Who the hell was that?_

Cody sighed, where was House when you _expected_ him?

-o0o-

Dr. Lisa Cuddy had not realized she hand snapped at pencil in her hand upon hearing the name come through her speaker until she looked at the broken pieces as she looked around to see if her office was a mess or not.

Of course it wasn't, but the anal-retentive side of her itched to make sure.

Smoothing the non-existing wrinkle on her silk blouse, hands moved then to her hair then her…_what the hell was he doing here?_

Suddenly, she felt her fingers shaking. "Shit," she hissed just as the doors of her office opened.

"Fancy seeing you here, beautiful."

Cuddy looked up. She hadn't heard that voice in years...

Nor seen those beautiful green eyes, warm smile and that handsome face, but Cuddy truly loved his smile more. He had been the first to ever make her 'weak in the knees'.

"Nathan, you're still using that line?"

"It's been a long time, I thought perhaps you'd forgotten," he shoved his hands in his pockets in the same way he used to, all those years ago, hiding his anxiousness. "I have missed you."

Cuddy smiled, uneasily. "Yeah, a long time…Nathan? What-what are you doing here?"

Nathan shrugged. "It's time."

A puzzled look came upon her face. "What? What are you talking about? Nathan, what are you doing here? In New Jersey…in my office."

"It's time," Nathan said again. "It's time, Lisa."

Feeling a chill creep up her spine, Cuddy swallowed hard. He had called her _Lisa_.

"It's time, Lisa, and you know it," Nathan repeated, the smile disappearing from his face into a serious look that even with that, still made her think him beautiful.

Cuddy shook her head then glanced at her watch. "Right. Time, yeah, thank you for reminding me. I do have that meeting with…Dr. Wilson. Thank you, please tell my assistant thank you as well." She stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Winslow. If you need anything, please, leave any message you have to Cody."

Walking around her desk, Cuddy made her way to the door, walking past Nathan who immediately grabbed her arm, gently but firmly. "Elise."

Cuddy froze.

-o0o-

Cody watched the beautiful man walk inside the office until he disappeared. She had been tempted to peek through the glass panels that separated her from Cuddy's office. It would have been interesting to see who this new character was. Was he a donor, Cody observed the good doctor had let the visitor in almost as soon as hearing his name; she was always accommodating those generous donors.

But then it would be more interesting to see if the man candy knew Cuddy in a much more personal way.

Total _Oh my god _moment, for sure_._

But then, just after four weeks, Cody was already loyal to Cuddy. The woman did not need another gossip around her. She needed friends, Cody thought sadly. The woman simply worked too much and the only friend she saw around the woman was the head nurse in the Clinic, Brenda Priven and sometimes Dr. Wilson, who probably maybe didn't count since he was more House's friend than Cuddy's.

Cuddy and House were almost like watching the Clash of the Titans with Wilson playing Switzerland…if there had been Switzerland in there.

Sighing, Cody continued to work, sending the letter to Dr. Matthews and a copy to Dr. Cuddy and to the members of the board. She watched the confirmation that the messages had been sent until another shadow loomed over her desk.

"How may I…" she stopped again, the smile dropping from her face. "Dr. House."

"Well," the diagnostician said, grinning almost in an evil way. "Don't you look happy to see me?"

Cody sighed. "Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy is currently with a visitor at the moment."

"Oh, come on," House said, rolling his eyes. "Are we really still doing this?" He stared at her as she stared at him. "Fine."

He stood back, pulling his cane along before pretending to stomp over back to her desk. "I demand to see Dr. Cuddy and her fine, fine Administritive ass right now!"

Cody sighed. _Drama queen_. "Dr. House, as said, Dr. Cuddy is with…"

"I don't care!" House continued with the charade, waving his cane around as if angry. "It has been sixteen hours, three minutes and fourteen—no—fifteen—sixteen seconds since my eyes last beheld the sight of her want-to-bury-myself-in-there cleavage!"

"Ew," Cody reacted without thinking. _Drama queen _and _pig. _"Dr. House—"

"Yes! Thank you!" House bellowed before turning to the doors, shooting a smug smile at her with his eyebrows bouncing.

Cody stood up. "Dr. House!"

She was ready to chase after the man when he stopped. "Dr Hou…"

House stopped, staring into the office and Cody followed, standing next to him with and looking into the office as well.

Cody stared through the glass panels, eyes wide.

Dr. Cuddy stood with the beautiful man, his hand on her arm as if he was stopping her from leaving and they were both locked in an intense staring contest, his flashing emerald green eyes clashing against her stormy-blue ones. They were standing a little too close for comfort, but obviously it didn't bother either one as they continued to stare, as if in a silent conversation, daring the other to break the spell.

"Who the hell is that?" House demanded, his icy blue eyes flashing, his left hand gripping his cane just a little bit tighter.

Who, indeed?

-o0o-

"Elise," Nathan said again, his eyes pleading now as he still held her arm. "Please."

"My name is Lisa," Cuddy said, her eyes flashing. "Lisa Cuddy."

Nathan nodded. "Yes, I know. _We _know, but you will always be Elise to us, _to me_."

Cuddy shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't." She tried to pull away, but he held fast, gently but firmly. "Please, I have work to do."

"Please."

"I can't," Cuddy said, sadly. "I'm sorry, Nathan, I can't."

He shook his head then let her arm go. "You can't? Or you won't, Elise?"

Her eyes fell to the floor, to her carpet before she braved looking at him again. "Both."

Nathan looked down, "Elise, it has been…years. More years than I dare count…please, it's time to go back…we've given you all the time to be…this. And you've run out of time. It's time to go back home. Where you belong..."

Cuddy shook her head. "New Jersey is home, Nathan. For _me_."

She pulled her arm away, spinning back on her heel, heading back to her desk.

"He's dying."

Cuddy stopped, but didn't turn to face him.

"He's dying, Elise," Nathan said, softly. "Elliot is dying."

Cuddy turned to look at him and he nodded softly.

"I'm sorry."

"What happened?" she asked, softly, her hand over her trembling lips.

Nathan shrugged. "They…found a tumor. We've gone to different doctors, they found it too late and…he's dying."

"Oh _god,_" Cuddy said softly, turning away from him again.

"Elise," Nathan said as he began to follow.

"No!" Cuddy said without turning to him. "Stay back, Nathan!"

He stopped, shoved his hands in his pockets again, fighting the urge to comfort her and follow as she had asked. "As you wish."

"How long does he have?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"They gave him six months, a year if we're lucky," he said then took a deep breath. "He wants to see you…soon. He's missed you so much."

She nodded. "Why didn't you bring him here?"

"There are other doctors, he didn't want to burden you with this."

"And you let him?" she asked, her voice cold.

Nathan swallowed hard. "We were just…following his wishes."

She turned to face him. "Why didn't you bring him _here _the moment he started to have symptoms?"

"He asked not to bother you. You know how he can be. He's protective."

Cuddy's eyes flashed in anger. "There was something wrong with him, his health and you let him decide?" she gritted out. "There's a difference between being overprotective and being foolish, Nathan! He's sick, he's dying and probably scared, he's in no state to make decisions--"

Nathan steeled himself. "Just come home, Elise, that's all we ask."

"He's dying and you're letting him!" she suddenly screamed. "I have the best goddamned oncologist in the state! All of you are less than TWO HOURS AWAY! You couldn't send the damned test results here? Couldn't bother to tell me sooner?"

"I was only doing what he wanted!" Nathan defended. "And _you _left. At least someone still cares enough about what _he_ wants!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cuddy snarled, her hands on her hips in a defiant pose.

"You've been running for years, do you think Elliot wanted that?"

With four quick steps, she was right in front of him, faces inches from each other, despite the height advantage he had over her. "You know why I had to go, Nathan! You know I had to! Don't you _dare _throw that in my face!"

"I'm just saying," Nathan said, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, in a brave attempt to calm her. "That maybe…it's time to stop running."

Shrugging his hands off, she took a step back. "I can't…just go."

"What about Elliot?"

She stopped, looking at him before letting her eyes fall to the floor again. "I don't know."

Nathan's eyes widened then grabbed her arm again before she could react. "Elise, think about what you're saying!"

"Her name is Lisa and I think you better get your hands off of her," someone snarled from behind them. "If not, I swear, you won't like it—it involves a cane and very unpleasant bump, preferably on your pretty boy face."

Turning with Cuddy's arm still in his hold, Nathan turned to see a rugged looking man with a cane standing by the open doors. "And who are you?"

"House!" Cuddy said, her eyes warning him not to interfere. Nathan was still holding her arm, but it didn't hurt in any way. She knew, even in a rage, though she's never seen him that way, Nathan would never hurt her.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" House said, ignoring Cuddy as he raised his cane.

Nathan glared. "This is none of your concern. Get out."

"I've called for security so either get your hands off her and not have a cane add to the stick already up your ass or have things turn out exactly that way. Take your pick." He shrugged. "Either way, I'll have fun and you won't."

Nathan immediately let go of Cuddy's arm and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Elise…I—I don't know what came over me."

"Her name is Lisa, idiot," House said dryly.

Nathan looked at Cuddy who was looking at House. "_Elise_, tell this man to get the hell out."

Cuddy shook her head. "House…"

"Cuddy," House said, shaking his head slightly, his eyes warning her.

"Elise," Nathan said evenly.

"_Lisa_," House pressed.

Cuddy looked at one man to another, one impeccably dressed in an Armani suit, combed-wavy blonde hair with touches of dark streaks of brown, the other, taller, his messy-just-got-out-of-bed looking hair, grayish-silver with remnants of his dark brown hair from his youth, a cane held in hand and dressed in a Rolling Stones band T-shirt, a dark blue sport-coat that brought out his eyes and jeans and a pair of black Chuck Taylor sneakers.

One man from her distant past, a life she had tried to forget and leave behind, the other from her life now, a shadow never leaving her, good times or bad, always there to keep her up to her toes, always there to remind her she wasn't as dead as she sometimes believed she was.

"House, what do you need now?" Cuddy asked, ignoring Nathan who had a sour look on his handsome face.

"We have a meeting, remember?" House said, pretending to look surprised she forgot. "Dr. Wilson is waiting in his office with Dr. Taub and Dr. Hadley about the…drug trials."

An outward lie, but a damned good one, Cuddy thought. House was always good with thinking on his feet, so to speak.

Cuddy nodded, slowly. "Right, well, we can't keep them waiting." She turned to Nathan. "I'm sorry," she said, smiling tightly. "About the…tragic news, but I can't help you. If you want, we have an excellent oncology wing here."

"Elise—"

"Dr. Cuddy," she corrected curtly, walking past him. "And, again, I am sorry. Thank you for dropping by, but I have to go."

"What? Wait—"

"Good day, _Norbert_," House said with a smug look as Cuddy grabbed her white coat and headed out the door. "Good seeing you, whoever you are."

With a wave, House happily followed Cuddy out, trailing after her with his cane, leaving the door wide open, leaving the stranger in Lisa Cuddy's office alone.

House didn't look back, nor did Cuddy, so neither of them didn't see the look of longing and sadness darken the handsome man's face, looking lost in the strange new place he had come to.

And in the midst of it all, the lone Cody Gomez saw him, Nathan Winslow, watching as if the love of his life had just walked out on him.

Unknown to her, Cody had been so close to the truth she could have tasted it.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Here you are. Tell me what you think, I would LOVE to know if this deserves to be kept going. I just love, love, love Huddy. I adore Cuddy and Lisa E…

Anyway, tell me what you think! If I keep this going, you'll be learning a lot more about 'Elise' and why she's 'Lisa' now, and as well as who 'Elliot' is and why 'Nathan' was coming and what he meant by 'it's time'. Lots of delicious twists, but of course, filled with huddy-lovin'.

I've woven a tangled web in my head with this first fic and yes, you'll be seeing a lot of new characters, by me, and see this fic jump to some new-not-so-far places as well. Wilson will be here of course, my little Huddy-Cupid, and in the midst of this all, House will be in the middle…of course he would, he wouldn't be Greg House if he wasn't.

Huddy all the way…with a few bumps in between.

Review, please!

_Ain't too proud to beg _by _The Rolling Stones_


	2. Chapter 2: Let It Be

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline:

Note: I must admit, the reviews surprised me! I did not know I'd get that much review for my first story! Thank you all so, so much! I loved reading them! I'm so glad you guys liked the first chapter, now I hope I don't let you down with the coming ones. Pressure is on! Whoo…hee, and kudos for those who agreed Lisa E/Cuddy is worth going gay for!

A little bit of House/Cuddy/Wilson because I love them three together!

Chapter Two: Let it Be

Limping along trying to keep up with the monotonous clicking of heels through the Clinic down to the elevators, House grunted as the brunette made no attempt to slow down for him. "Hey, cripple here, you could try and slow down?"

Stopping, she turned to him, her eyes darting past him before meeting his eyes. "Why are you following me?"

"Uh, drug trials?" he said as if it was obvious.

"That was a lie and you know it," she muttered with a huff before spinning and heading to the elevators once more, maintaining her previous pace.

"What was that all about anyway?" he asked, keeping up with a huff.

She shot him a look as she stepped into the empty lift, pressing the third floor. "None of your business."

House glanced at the button. "Going my way?"

She rolled her eyes. "Dream on."

They both stood in silence as the doors closed.

"You're not going up there to my office," he stated, watching the buttons on the overhead panel.

"Wow, brilliant jerk _and _psychic," she said sarcastically. "I got me a two-fer. Yipee."

"You're going up there to see Wilson," he ignored her sarcasm.

"I am?" she feigned shock. "_My god, _you're brilliant! You _so _can see the future."

He cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she said, shrugging. "I am just _shocked _by your earth-shattering visions. Like, really."

For such a smart woman, she played dumb really well.

"You're more sarcastic than usual," he said, his brows knitting. "And you've been hissy for a while now. I would have thought having your evil lair remodeled and revamped would have wiped out your pissiness. What, new table not doing it for you?"

"My—"

"Or maybe no one doing _you _on _your _table, I can't guess which," he said, pretending to look clueless, shaking his head with a blank look.

She glared at him just as the doors opened with a ding. "My office is none of your business too and," she stepped out, with him close behind. "I had to put in another order for my desk, seeing as they made a mistake with the one I _actually _ordered."

He stopped. "What's wrong with the one in your office now?"

She shrugged. "Some idiot got me the wrong table. It's not what I needed."

"That table…"

She spun around to face him. "What?"

"That was your table from med school," he finished, gripping his cane. "Your mother had it in storage for you. I took it out."

She rolled her eyes. "Contrary to what you believe," she turned to face him, pinning him with a glare as she walked towards him. "I am _not _an idiot so I don't care how you did it, whether you had to break into that storage space or bribe some idiot to do it for you, I _know _it was you."

"You're welcome, by the way," he muttered, watching her oddly now, wondering what he had done wrong. She had been angrier at him more than usual for a while now, originally making him think she was still mad about her office bathroom and hadn't figured out he was responsible for taking her old desk back, but looking at her now, he realized _this _was different.

House could see the vicious light in her eyes, the clenching of her fists at her sides and the set of her jaw—this was _not _the pissy-Cuddy he loved seeing so much. This was different, which scared and confused him. What did he do now?

He honestly expected her to come thanking him for the "grand gesture" once she realized what he had done. She had loved that desk from her med school years, studying on it and sometimes eating, while he lay on her bed, tutoring her at the same time stealing her food and rummaging through her bedside drawer, annoying her to no end, but not enough to have her kick him out.

There were a lot of memories on that desk, House had remembered fondly. He had thought he had done the right choice, but seeing her now, right in front of him, looking as if she _truly _hated him, he knew this was different.

_What the hell did he do now?_

He had been on his almost good behavior lately. Almost.

"'You're _welcome'_?" she repeated, looking amused but at the same time angrier. "'_You're welcome'!"_

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "That's what you usually say when a person does something nice for you like…I don't know, getting your old desk back for you?"

"Not only are you an ass, but you," she pointed at him, her finger drawing both eyes to the pointed nail at the tip, wondering if it was about to gorge his eyes out. "Are an annoying, disrespectful, arrogant, insensitive son of a b—"

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy stopped and turned to see Dr. James Wilson, hands on his hips with his sleeves tucked up to his elbows, looking at them. She could see the frustration and impatience on his face. "Dr. Wilson, I was just coming—"

"For an afternoon delight," House cut in then shrugged, "I just rejected her, she's not taking it so well. _God, _I just can't take it! She is _insatiable_."

She speared him with a look. "Shut up you—"

"Okay, okay," Wilson said, raising his hands in front of him, palms out. "My office is open, Lisa, you can—"

"_Lisa_?" House echoed mockingly. "What the hell is that? She's a screeching hyena. Since when have we been first name basis with the Devil here, _James_?"

Wilson shook his head then looked at Cuddy who looked like she was ready to pounce on House. "My office is open, I'm free, go ahead."

Cuddy nodded stiffly then walked away, glaring at House.

The two men waited until their fiery boss made it into her office. Wilson shook his head at House. "What did you do?"

"Me?" House said, disbelievingly. "Why did I have to do something?"

"Because you always do," Wilson said with a sigh. "She'll tell me anyway."

House rolled his eyes. "I _did not _do anything, Jimmy. In fact, I was just aiming the twins a visit and there was this Greek tragedy standing in her office, manhandling her. I _saved _her so no, apart from that _very_ bad thing, I didn't do anything."

Wilson shook his head. "Right, you really want me to believe a man was manhandling Cuddy and you stepped in and saved her."

"Yes," House said, twirling his cane. "Duh?"

"Like anyone would live to tell the tale after messing with Cuddy," he stared at House. "Well, except you." Wilson sighed. "House," he shook his head tiredly. "Just…leave her alone. She hasn't been feeling great since the whole office thing you pulled."

"I got her her damned table," House snapped. "I think that entitles me to some free-bitching days, don't you agree?"

"You haven't done your clinic duty," Wilson supplied. "You have three weeks backed up."

House let his head loll to the side. "I've delegated it to each of my ducklings. It's all covered, I'm a genius that way."

"You busted something again?" Wilson asked, guessing through the lists on what House might have done to have Cuddy on the warpath.

House thought for a moment. "Uh, no."

"Did you sleep in coma guy's room?"

"Coma guy died two days ago."

"Seriously?" Wilson asked, shocked.

"No," House shrugged. "Just not into talking with the guy right now; we had a bit of a row." He crossed his arms petulantly. "I am not apologizing first. He called me names after I told him to wake up and smell the cleavage."

Wilson shook his head. "Why do I even bother?"

"You're hot for me."

"Oh, ew," Wilson's face scrunched up. "House!"

"What?"

"I'm going to talk to Cuddy…"

"You mean listen to her screech," House smirked. "I bet _that _turns on the wonder boy oncologist, the frisky _little_ nut."

Wilson stared at him. "Unbelievable." He sighed deeply. "Did you insult another patient or family member? Get sued or punched someone?"

"No," House answered. "It's been a while since that happened. I think I'm actually going through getting-sued-withdrawal."

"How tragic," Wilson responded dryly. "I gotta go."

House frowned. "Elise."

Wilson stopped. "What?"

"Do you know anyone called _Elise_?" House prodded, wondering why he was asking Wilson. If he didn't know, there was a bigger chance his best friend didn't.

Wilson thought for a moment. "I had a classmate in fourth grade named Elise, but I haven't seen her in years so I'm guessing you're not talking about her."

"The Greek-god-wannabe kept calling Cuddy 'Elise'," House said, his blue eyes darkening. "And we both know her name is _Lisa_ since you called her that after our little group pow-wow."

"I don't know anyone called Elise, but I do know there is a Lisa waiting in my office," Wilson said, turning to the direction of his office. "Go to your office, play ball or Gameboy. Just don't bother her right now, Greg."

House frowned deeper at his friend's retreating back. "Whatever you say Jimmy!"

Giving one last warning look, Wilson walked back to his office, his hand on the back of his neck while House watched, waiting until his best friend had shut his office door before he slinked off into his own office, a plan already hatched in his mind.

House just knew he had to thank God for balconies.

-o0o-

Wilson slipped into his office to find Cuddy pacing back and forth in front of his desk, his little Dalmatian puppy stuffed toy that a patient gave to her was in her hands, squeezing it then releasing it again and again. Her heels clacked and her white lab coat swooshed against her legs as she sped back and forth, unrelenting in speed and apparently not tiring.

Three weeks after that moment in Cuddy's office where she hovered over her old desk with that brilliant smile on her face, Wilson had expected that she and a certain Diagnostician would have had something between them. Sex, love, a few smiles or, heaven forbid, a relationship—anything, as long as something changed.

Wilson knew the "grand gesture" had been House the moment Cuddy confirmed it had not been her mother and seeing that smile on her face, the look of pure happiness that Wilson realized he had not seen in _years_, he had thought she would have caved to House now.

But in those three weeks, Cuddy had been pulling tighter on House's reins harder than ever, hounding him for clinic hours, telling him off at every single broken rule and barging into Wilson's office to complain and demand that he control his "smug, arrogant, lying, pathetic, obnoxious ass" of a friend.

Through it all, he had had Cuddy in his office more than usual and Wilson truly did not mind. He liked helping the overworked Administrator, but every time he asked why she was so upset with "The Jerk", as she had labeled him, she would close off and tell him curtly that she had to go.

The subject of "The Jerk" had done nothing well except have her scream more, if not, then storm out. Wilson had asked, more than he bothered to count, and got no answer from the woman. He had went to House, badgering him and pushing him to admit what he had done to set her off, but later realized that, for once, the man was completely innocent.

Though, in Wilson's mind, he was probably more clueless than innocent.

Sighing, Wilson closed the door behind him. "What did he do now?"

"Nothing," Cuddy muttered, squeezing the toy's middle. "Nothing, absolutely nothing."

Wilson raised an eyebrows, still standing by the door. "O-kay, so…what's going on?"

"Nothing," she repeated, the puppy in her hand now caught around the neck by her hands.

Wilson let his head drop, his chin falling to his chest, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Cuddy, is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

Cuddy shook her head, hands wringing the dog still. "Don't…don't really know. It's…weird, but, ha, not weird, weird as in killed someone weird, just…weird, weird, weird. You know?"

She had spoken it so fast he almost didn't understand her. "Uh, pardon me?"

Cuddy looked up, her eyes taking on a remarkable impression of a deer caught in the headlights. "Nothing, Wilson, I just…God, this is insane." Her hands flew to her head, grabbing them as if she was losing her mind.

"Does this have anything to do with the name 'Elise'?" Wilson asked slowly, knowing if he dived right in there was a possibility she might go off and bite his head off or, runaway.

Cuddy froze. "House told…you about that?" She sighed at the same time squeezed the little dog's neck. "Of course he did. What else did he tell you?"

Wilson shrugged. "Something about saving you from a Greek god who was calling you Elise and manhandled you and House saving you, you know, the usual."

"He was not manhandling me," she said quickly, almost too quickly, but not quite enough for Wilson to notice anything odd. "It was just some guy…talking about a cancer patient. Must have mistaken me for someone else, that's all…"

"Cancer patient?" Wilson asked. "Who?"

"No one you know," she said simply. "I suggested they come see you, but he says the patient doesn't want treatment and things got weird then House showed up."

"Weird how?"

"Don't know," she shrugged, placing the almost deformed puppy back onto his table. "But he wanted any sort of help, but we can't help them if they have the diagnosis and a patient willing to die now, right?"

Wilson nodded. "I suppose."

Cuddy sat down on the couch not too far from his desk. "He wasn't manhandling me."

"You already said that," Wilson said, taking the in front of his desk and turning it so he can sit in front of her. "But what about him calling you a different name?"

"I told you, he must have mistook me for someone else," she said dismissively. "I really don't know what I'm doing here."

Wilson nodded. "It helps to have somewhere to go just for the hell of it, right?"

"I guess," Cuddy said, nodding.

"I mean, House has that park where people jog," Wilson said with a small grin. "Though I don't think he goes there as much anymore."

Cuddy almost smiled. "He goes there to hide from me. I'm just…not hiding."

Wilson's brow furrowed. "Not hiding, but House did say he saved you. From what?"

Cuddy shrugged. "The man who came by was insisting I see his patient, but I…I'm not an oncologist so there's really no point since I can't save him. He was insisting I do then House came in then you know, he spurted out some lie to get me out so I did."

Wilson lifted his chin, his eyebrows raised. "House lied _for you_?"

Cuddy grinned. "Weird, eh? But it was good as any offer, I took it now here I am."

"What about the man?" Wilson inquired, wondering if they needed to worry about some patient's family member going after Cuddy.

"What about him?" Cuddy asked, suddenly guarded.

"Did he leave?"

"Oh," Cuddy said, relaxing visibly. "Right, no, I don't know. I left him in my office."

"Want me to check with Cody?"

Cuddy nodded. "Please."

Wilson grabbed his office phone. "She's good, by the way, your assistant, Cody. She's nice, hard working too, it appears."

Cuddy smiled. "Yeah, I got lucky for once. She's very reliable and pleasant. It's a damned big plus she can handle House and his crap as much as she can."

Wilson grinned. "And here I thought you were the last of your kind."

-o0o-

House stood by the door of Wilson's balcony, body pressed as close as possible to the wall, his can looped through his belt. Inside, he could see Cuddy, mercilessly taking out her anxiety on the gaudy little toy from Wilson's desk, which House guessed was another gift from some dying patient. He rolled his eyes, _hand holding while you die, how precious _and so Wilson.

He had to stick by the wall, which made him itch for two more pieces of Vicodin, knowing the strain of holding himself up without his cane was straining on his thigh. But then Cuddy was pacing like a roving Doberman stuck in a cage. Knowing her, him making further movements by reaching for his pill bottle might alert her to his presence.

The woman was a human Doberman herself.

She knew how to growl, attack, track and, if his memory served him right, she could also bite. The thought of her sinking her teeth into his skin almost made him squirm. God, how he would love that, imagining the image of the ever powerful Lisa Cuddy possibly dominating him in his own bedroom, guessing that she was _definitely _a born dominatrix. Very hot, very sexy and oh so Cuddy…

House willed himself to stop fantasizing, this was definitely not the time for his friend to come up and play. He wondered how the Dean of Medicine would react to him playing the role of peeping tom outside Wilson's office while she sat, playing out her hot doctor role while he…

The sudden movement caught his eye as Cuddy sat down on Wilson's couch, while his best friend took the seat from his desk and sat in front of her. He rolled his eyes. Of course, Wilson was playing shrink for _her _too.

_Traitor, _his mind chastised his friend. He could possibly have the key to Cuddy's secrets which, in House's mind, should require Wilson to spill it all to House, his _bestest, funnest, coolest friend._

But then it was so Wilson to sit there and play sounding board to Cuddy as she spilled out her girlish dreams and woes. The man knew simply how to be 'the good guy' so it was natural that a woman so private and overworked as Cuddy would give in and talk to the guy.

It was logical, but it did not make House anywhere near happy.

He was supposed to know Cuddy better, right? How was he supposed to do that when boy wonder was in there spinning his magic, being all sweet and caring.

The image of the two going out _again _on a date made House reach for his cane…

Of course, he wasn't jealous. Who would want another ex-Mrs.-Wilson? Besides, he wasn't ready, having just lost Amber and all. And Cuddy for his best-friend-in-law…dear God, help them all, House would not have that.

House convinced himself a long time ago he was just looking out for his best friend and his hyena-bred boss. Really, it was better if Cuddy stayed Cuddy instead of becoming Mrs. Wilson.

_Lisa Cuddy-Wilson_, the words floated in House's mind, making him cringe. She would keep her name, he knew. _Lisa Wilson_…House almost gagged.

Sick.

He shook his head. Not happening, not if he could help it.

Frowning, he peeked inside the office, seeing that now Wilson was on the phone while Cuddy, from what little House could see from her profile, sat on the couch, one hand fidgeting with the pearls around her neck while the other arm was draped across her stomach. Her legs were crossed, one knee jutted up while the rest of the leg with her red high heel clad foot bounced tensely while the other lay flat and still on the floor.

Everything about her screamed tense as she seemed to drown in anxiety, but underneath, House could see a lace of fear as well, hidden beneath the surface. From what? He didn't know, but from his position, it was obvious he was going to damned well find out. He would play his role, badgering her and stalking her until she would be forced to tell him, or better, he would catch her on whatever she was being skitterish about.

It was very like the same game they have been playing for the past twenty years, the way it has always been from the moment he met her on the tracks of Michigan University to the way everything else in their lives intertwined and simply fell into place. Their life, side by side, was like a never ending game of Cat and Mouse, but neither of them were really sure who was what most of the time.

Peeking through the glass again, he watched just in time as Wilson put his office phone down, giving Cuddy a puzzled look as she looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for something. They exchanged a few words and House saw relief in Cuddy's face while Wilson looked confused.

House knew there was something going on, but watching Cuddy smile and shake her head a little, at Wilson as he spoke of something that obviously confused or bothered him, he knew his best friend had no idea what was really going on.

The clueless shrink, House labeled his friend. He felt better already.

Watching, House concluded he would beat the two of them, finding out what was really going on with Cuddy and kick Wilson's ass.

Yes, that was always fun.

-o0o-

"Okay, thank you Cody. I'll tell her, yes. Good bye."

Cuddy waited until Wilson put his phone back in its cradle and turned to her before getting an answer to her unasked question.

"The man, a Mr. Nathan Wislow," Wilson began. "Left after you and House left him in your office. He left a message with Cody, telling you to call him as soon as you can, concerning the patient. He said he was willing to help his brother with your help as well. He left his card with his office and home numbers and addresses."

Cuddy nodded. "Right, of course. Anything else?"

Wilson shrugged. "Not really, but Leese," he watched her. "Do you really not know this guy? From the way Cody told me about this Winslow character, he seems to think he _does _know you."

Cuddy didn't answer immediately, looking as if trying to jog her memory about the man mentioned. "No, Wilson, I really do not know that man."

Wilson sighed. "Right…do you think…"

Cuddy waited then added slowly, "Do I think…what?"

"Do you think we should be worried?" Wilson asked, hesitantly.

"What?" Cuddy asked, puzzled. "Worried? About what?"

"This guy, of course," Wilson said, as if it was obvious. "Like, he could be some weird stalker or something, you know, dangerous?"

Cuddy smiled. It was always cute to see Wilson so caring. Meddlesome the man may be, he was a good friend with good intentions, always there to worry and care about her and House, sometimes a little too much, but he was James Wilson. His entire being dictated he worry about everything and everyone around him.

She shook her head and stood up, walking to him. "Oh, James," she placed her hand on his cheek. "You worry too much."

"He could be dangerous, Leese," Wilson said, his eyes soft and filled with worry. "We shouldn't take chances like this."

She bent down, kissing him on the cheek lightly. "Don't worry, he's harmless. Just another—"

"My, my isn't this cozy?" came the booming voice, making her jump back from Wilson who looked up with wide eyes.

Almost tripping on her heels, Cuddy glared at the intruder. "House!"

"You!" he pointed his cane at her. "Little minx! You _did _come here for an afternoon delight, taking advantage of this poor _little _oncologist!"

Cuddy glared. "House, get out!"

He ignored her as he turned to Wilson who was still seated, looking guilty as if he had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "You!" House jabbed with his cane. "Sneaky little _Iago_! Where is the loyalty? The friendship? Bros over Hos! This treachery!"

"House," Wilson said, calmly, though he was bit worried, noticing the serious glint in his best friend's eyes. There was anger, for sure, and Wilson knew House would not hesitate to use his cane. "Calm down, Lisa and I—"

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" House boomed. "_Lisa_? More like Lady Macbeth, and you!" he pointed an accusing finger at Wilson. "Sir Macbeth have been plotting with the little minx, haven't you? Haven't you!"

"Oh for god sakes," Cuddy muttered, rolling her eyes before grabbing the raging man by the collar, pulling him to her face. "House! Shut the hell up!"

House stopped, eyes wide, before she let his collar go and plopped back into her seat on Wilson's couch. The oncologist hid his smile as House stared at her, slightly open mouthed then at him.

"We were just talking," she said, slowly, obviously understanding his possessiveness of her. It always marveled Wilson how she didn't seemed bothered by it, even when it came to House coming between the two of them.

Her need to explain to House what they had been doing obviously meant she was accepting his possessive nature and was nowhere near telling him off on it. In fact, watching her, Wilson could almost see she was completely complacent in the whole deal. It was interesting to him, seeing her that way, not really letting House take advantage of her, but rather, her giving herself freely to be claimed by him.

No matter how much time he spent thinking about it and knit-picking them, Wilson knew he would never fully figure them out. Their relationship, whatever it was, was something just between the two of them, never fully revealing the history or the real emotions underneath. In many ways, they were both alike, making it quite possible for them to love and hate without fully doing either so and coming back at the end of each day right next to each other, comfortable and near pleasant, but never really admitting it as that.

"Talking?" House mocked. "About what?"

Cuddy frowned. "Sit your ass down, you're too damned tall and I don't want to break my neck."

House dropped his head to his chest before nodding and saying in a low deep voice, "Yes, mistress, Lady Macbeth."

He proceeded to sit next to her, plopping his cane rudely on her lap, making her glare at him as he smiled at Wilson sinisterly. "So," he threw his arm up, landing it on Cuddy's shoulder. "What are we talking about, gang?"

Wilson looked at Cuddy who nodded, crossing her arm over her stomach again while the other hand cradled her head. "_Cuddy _and I were just talking about the," House scowled when Wilson used air quotes, "'Greek god' from her office that you, dear sir, gallantly saved her from."

"I never called him Greek god," House scowled. "I said, and I quote myself—"

Cuddy smirked. "You would."

House ignored her. "'Greek tragedy' or 'Greek-god-wannabe'…"

Wilson sighed. "Yes, that. Whatever, but we were talking about him and I was suggesting that maybe we should be careful, seeing as this man might be dangerous—"

Cuddy shook her head. "He isn't."

House raised an eyebrow. "Funny, if my memory serves me right, a certain doctor _did _get shot in this very hospital, not too far from this room actually—"

"That's different!" Cuddy countered.

"How? Anyone can pull a gun!" Wilson cut in.

House went on. "And was he or was he not a patient's family member?"

Cuddy scowled. "Well, _that _doctor does deserve to get shot now and again…"

"But not you," Wilson cut in again. "Leese, I just want us to be more careful."

"Oh now I deserve to get shot? Wow, I'm feelin' the love, bro!"

"This is getting a little out of hand…" Cuddy said slowly.

"I did not say that!" Wilson said to House. "I merely said she doesn't need to have some weirdo toting a gun out for her!"

"And yet you didn't deny I deserved getting shot," House jeered.

"We're talking about Lisa here, not you…"

"Lisa, eh? Wow, you really are that tight, huh?"

"House…" Cuddy tried to stop them from further.

"Because, unlike you, I do care to show I care about someone…"

"Yeah, yeah. We saw that in paper already. Betcha Missus-es Wilson 1, 2 and 3 can testify to that, right Jimmy?"

"You're unbelievable."

"Of course I am…"

"Oh would you two stop it!" came the shout as Cuddy jumped from her seat, tossing House's cane aside and pushing him away. She glared at him then at Wilson. "You two are so immature!" she screeched. "I am two inches from pulling my hair out!" she made a grab for her curly locks.

"Leese, I'm sorry…" Wilson began but she shook her head, raising a hand up to stop him.

"Oh, Cuddy, so hot when so pissed, I'm so turned on right now!"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "You two do whatever it is you do. I'm going," she headed for the door.

"Lisa!" Wilson called. "I'm sorry!"

"Yeah," Cuddy said dismissively. "And to think I went here to clear my head!"

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her loudly, making House grin as Wilson cradled his head in his hands, elbows on his knees.

"Well, thanks House, that sure worked out great," Wilson said sarcastically.

"Happy to help," House replied cheerfully. "Let's go reward me with some ice cream!"

"You're an ass."

"I know you are but what am I?"

-o0o-

Too long, I know, and a bit lame, but it will pick up! Promise. I just needed something in between before I slip the new characters in. I just liked the whole House/Cuddy/Wilson friendship…this was a bit out of character, I noticed, but I liked them this way. Hey, I tried.

Maybe I blew the whole friends scene, but tell me anyway!

Reviews are very much welcomed! Thank you for the people (and non-people, if there are any out there) who reviewed! You made my week! Thank you!

Let me know if it's too long, I can probably make shorter chapters if I can.

All explanations on who's who to who and why who's where for who will be answered soon. I am SO glad you seem to be interested who Nathan and Elliot are! Review then I'll update then you'll know who they are. Fair trade, eh?

xoxOphelia


	3. MISTAKE

**MISTAKE**

My sister just woke me up, she's twelve and she's annoying as hell.

She usually makes the silliest mistakes, but nothing like this.

Ohgod, it's so embrassing...Can I kill her?

If you're reading this and still don't know, please see my reviews page and notice that there is a submitted review written by ME for MY STORY which should mean I am shameless narcissistic, idiot...but what you should know now, before you all think I'm some sort of loser,** I did not write that review.**

Right now, it's 2am and I have a class at 7:30 for Natural Sciece 2, but my sister, Lyra, is using my laptop and has been looking for my stories since I don't let her read it...of course, being the little twit that she is, she found it.

She does not have an account with so she decided to make one under the name 'underagedthespian' (yes, you know what she wants to be now) and she confirmed her account and everything, following all instructions but when she went to review my work, she failed to notice MY ACCOUNT WAS STILL IN USE so...the review she wrote was filed under MY ACCOUNT name thus making it look like **I REVIEWED MY OWN WORK**.

She tried to delete the review, but she found out only anonymous reviews can be deleted. Does anybody know if we can delete our own reviews? This is too embarassing. I could so kill her.

It's embarassing and stupid, I have never tried using a chapter page for stuff like this but, here we are.

I am banning her from ever coming near my laptop, from reading my stories and from even going to this site. It's 2am and I have this urge to kill her.

I just want to say, THAT IS NOT MY REVIEW. My sister just likes..."being in the know", as she likes to call it....

Please don't think me conceited enough to review my own work. Who does that? I wouldn't, promise. I get that enough from my new readers!

She's sorry, she's in bed, twitching while I ITCH to strangle her.

I'll try to go back to bed with the promise to update as soon as I can.

Thank you. Good night.


	4. Chapter 3: Sweet Little Lies

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: A bit off, really. Unlike the show, Christmas is coming, but I'm pulling back a little. Thinking about the JTTW baby? Well…yeah. I'm twisting that storyline to a more…tragic one, which means angst, right? Who asked for angst? *goes to check* DoctorLisaCuddy, here you go and thank you for the reviews! _I've started calling my sister 'Missy' for Mistake and 'Niny' for being so Annoying (don't ask how I got Niny out of that)…She's banned from all my things, especially the flash drive containing all my works/stories (I finally had a damned good reason to tell my mom why it's a good thing I'm paranoid about my stuff! Sisters, can't live with 'em, can' kill 'em…I love her, I do, do, but she drives me insane at times…)_

Note: You'll 'meet' Elliot soon enough and Nathan will be around more, though it's funny cause a last night I watched Special Delivery again (Lisa Edelstein's movie with Brenda Song—I love it! It's fun and happy) and I just realized her ex-hubby's name in that movie was 'Nate' and you know, short for Nathan and I'm gonna be using that later…why am I telling you this? No idea.

Oh, and as always, **thank you everyone for the reviews! They so make my day!** I love, love, love reading them so I hope you review again, just as you did with Chapter two and my explanation (still want to kill Niny for that!) and I hope you won't hate me for JTTW-baby.

Wokeiy, let's get a move on…

Chapter Three: Sweet Little Lies

Wandering through the halls of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with his hands in his pockets, Nathan found himself wondering in awe if Elise had truly been running the place for the last nine years. He knew, of course, that she was great and smart. He'd always believed she could be and do anything she set her heart to, but in all the years he had known her, he had never imagined her to be a doctor or be running an entire hospital on her own.

But then, of course, he never knew she would walk away one day and never think of coming back so he doubted now what he really knew about her or what she could do.

Nathan Andrei Winslow could not help but feel bittersweet about everything life already dealt him. He was lucky, he knew, that he was born into a good family with a good name, giving him everything and anything he could want, even the genetically passed good looks and brains. He was aware, though a little shy, that he was a pleasant looking man, but still, sometimes, the gawking and the fawning still bothered him.

Like Elise, he never truly knew what it all meant, to be what they were and what they were really supposed to be.

All those years that passed, all the years he spent missing her, he'd spent remembering her and everything she was. Visiting and revisiting memories locked deep in his heart and mind, reliving how it was to have her close, with her, near her, how it felt to _be with her_.

God, he missed her, but he loved her enough to let her be free to be who she was always searching to be, ever since that night…

She was twelve, he was thirteen and she had called him at two in the morning, sobbing, struggling through tears, trying to tell him the news that had rocked their world.

Nathan shook his head, running his hands through his hair. Now wasn't the time to relive that night. He'd relived it enough alone, but knowing she was near, somewhere in the hospital, he knew it wasn't the right time.

Instead, he focused on another memory, that night, one of the last they spent together alone, as they both stood in the steps of Isadora Valmont School for Girls, her school. It was across from his, Preston Blakely Academy, and they'd spent enough times together through the years in the benches and tables on the courtyard both schools shared.

That night, she was seventeen, waiting for the world as it waited for her. She was graduating with him in a few months, the same time as him, but as she pranced around him, confused with a bottle of tequila and a packet of cigarette, tipsy and a little loud, laughing and giggling while she balanced precariously on the marble benches wearing those high heels she loved so damned much, she voiced out her inner musings, her inner conflict.

The normal, sober Elise, on one hand, would have gone mad at the thought of getting caught drinking and smoking in campus grounds while a few months shy of graduating a year early after being accelerated, but Nathan had made sure the day before to bribe the janitors to stay well out of the courtyard to give them peace. Being open with him, on the other hand, was somewhat of a norm now. Nathan was Elise's Elliot when he wasn't around to be there for her, and for this particular memory, Elliot wasn't around.

Difference was, Elliot didn't let Elise run around with a bottle in hand, half _empty_ (as she had stressed with a pout after gulping down more than enough for a seasoned sailor) with tequila and cigarettes like some wild little flower full of conflict and angst.

"_Nate, my Nate," she cooed, balanced on the tip of the bench, standing above him as he stood ready to catch her if she fell, her gray and blue dress rumpled and riding up a little above her knees. "Don't you ever wonder, love?"_

_Even then, Elise was overly affectionate once deep well into the bottle. She wasn't a drinker, never was, but there were just days she needed a good buzz and then a hangover to knock her right back on track, the cigarettes were just a little perk she added on occasion._

"_About what, darling?" he mocked lightly, grinning as she giggled girlishly at the pet name._

"_About…" she sighed, the smile dropping from her pretty face, the giggles dying from her bare lips, the color she had applied earlier long gone. "Everything…what we're doing, why are we doing this and that, why we have to act this way, talk this way, dress," she tugged on her dress around her thigh, bringing it up higher, revealing her tennis-toned thighs. "The way we do?"_

"_We are who we are, aren't we?" he said simply._

_She scowled. "Not what I mean!" she said. "You know I hate platitudes, they're so fucking useless!" he winced, she was such a truck driver when drunk. "Nate, what are we doing?"_

"_We," he motioned to her then himself. "Are here, in school, of all places, while you drink and get smashed while I am the designated driver…"_

"_If you don't stop that, I will spit on you!" she threatened in a surprisingly sober tone. "And designated driver? Johnson is waiting outside! I am being serious here…"_

_He nodded, trying hard not to smile. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, but why don't you get down from there and we can talk like grown ups?"_

_She thought for a moment, the uncapped top of the bottle resting on her chin. "Okay," she said chirpily, giggling as she did so._

_Letting his hands latch securely around her waist, she allowed him to lower her on the ground, sitting her down next to him while he laid the bottle on his other side while she let her head rest on his shoulder._

"_I lied, Nate," she said, sighing sadly, the bottle dangling precariously between her pointer finger and thumb, sloshing the amber colored liquid inside. "I lied to my dad…"_

_He waited, not trusting himself not to ruin this moment._

"_I don't want to be a lawyer," she said softly, as if afraid her father might hear her. "I don't want to…not me…it's not right."_

_Nathan nodded. "What do you want to be, hmm?" he placed a hand on her cheek, thumb running on her smooth skin, making her eyes fall slowly shut. She was growing tired, he was sure after seeing this take place too many times already not to see the telltale signs near passing out._

"_Be a…" she yawned, making him smile as she then rubbed the tip of her nose against his collar, something they all knew she'd been doing since she was a baby, a cute habit she never really got to shake off. "A doctor...save lives, make a difference...it's so cliché, but so…right."_

_Nathan was surprised then. He knew almost all her dreams, but he hadn't heard of this one. Elise had always said yes to her father's desires for her to be a lawyer and work for his company then hopefully, later take over the business. She never seemed to mind, seemingly like him and Elliot, ready to follow their parents' footsteps and take on the lives they were born to._

"_This life," she sighed. "This world, Nate…it can all go away, disappear," she waved her bottle around. "Just like that…being a doctor, being something _real_ that doesn't have _anything_ to do with this world…I want to be something different, to be…me."_

"_You are you, Elise," he whispered. "No one is ever like you, you're…Elise. You're perfect."_

_She opened her eyes and looked at him with a smile. "I want to be more than that, Nathan. More than this…it's not enough, not to me."_

"_I like you the way you are, isn't that enough?" he asked, nudging her._

_Elise smiled and closed her eyes, falling asleep with a sigh, the bottle rolling from her grip, spilling the rest onto the ground. The cigarette followed suit, falling on a small patch of grass that had grown in the cracks just underneath the bench._

_Nathan had carried Elise that night, cradling her against him, her head on his shoulder and into the awaiting car. Holding her against him, Nathan had held on to Elise that night, comfortable to feel her breathing against him as the new questions arose in his mind, confusing him and scaring him at the same time. She had never expressed her wishes to become a doctor with him and he wondered if she had shared them with Elliot._

_That night he decided he would talk to Elliot and sort things out. Elise had sounded so sad, Nathan wanted to fix that and he knew Elliot would want to do the same._

Even back then, their worlds revolved around Elise and all that mattered was keeping her happy.

That was the one reason they let her go, all those years ago, because she wanted them to. They never could refuse her anything, especially if she fought hard enough for it.

And she did.

-o0o-

Stomping along the corridor with a huff, Cuddy decided to take the stairs to work off some steam and to avoid people as much as possible. In reality, she thought maybe she was really avoiding a certain limping doctor, but of course, she wasn't. That would be a bad thing to do, avoiding people and such, using stairs to avoid cripples.

As each click clack of her heel echoed in the otherwise empty staircase, an internal battle continued to rage—one that started the moment her visitor was announced by her assistant. She was feeling the threat of a migraine coming with unrelenting vengeance, making her already throbbing head ache in such a way she had not felt since the whole 'desk fiasco'.

Of course, she won't think about that.

Flashes of blonde hair, tattoos (dear, god!), leather jackets, bare arms revealed by a black tank top and stupid grins floated around her head, as they have been doing since _that night_, but Cuddy tramped it down. She had more things to think about other than that a male doctor of an ass whoring around in her hospital.

She had meant to _thank_ him for the desk, but she supposed having a hooker come in _her _hospital and not kicking his sorry ass for it was thank you enough. As far as she was concerned, things were more than even by now.

Jerk.

But Cuddy was not thinking about that. She was getting a new desk in the morning, the one _she _ordered for _herself_ and her old med school desk would be returned from wherever storage space House snagged it from.

How he found it was a mystery to her, by she was not surprised. This was House, after, he could shove himself in any hole and dig something up without actually trying. The man was brilliant in a lot of ways, both a gift and a curse to the world.

Sighing, she stopped at the landing between the second and third floor, leaning against the windows as the throbbing of her head continued to go with a _thump, thump, thump _that she was sure will eventually drive her mad.

She focused her mind on other things, opening her mind to have memories flood her, not realizing this wasn't really a good idea until Cuddy felt her heart contract as her mind conjured up images she dared not revisit while the memories were still so fresh. She didn't want to but they came in waves. Images, flashes, memories, as she stood there in front of the ghost of the past she left behind long ago.

Memories that were yet to fade with the throbbing pain that hadn't dulled even just a little came back, threatening to drown her, to consume and break her right there halfway down the stairs on the landing between the third and second floor.

The first time she saw Becca, smiling with her protruding belly, telling her she believed Cuddy would make a good parent even as a single mother. Then images of the baby, out in the world but terrifyingly still, uttering no sound. Next, cradling baby Joy against her chest, Becca telling her softly, _She's yours now_.

Feelings flooded, the joy of that moment, flooding back through her then the subsequent feeling on her chest as if it was being crushed.

Becca sitting on that hospital bed, saying those words that ultimately crushed Cuddy's heart, same words that almost ruined her entirely, _I can't…_

Begging, Cuddy could see herself begging, to Becca to rethink her decision, to think about her daughter, their lives…the crushing went on.

She couldn't breathe.

_Crushing, crushing,_ Cuddy felt it on her chest again, staring at the ground, unconsciously balling her fists into tight knuckles that were turning white much too fast.

Then a new memory emerged, this one darker than the other, consisting of old dilapidated buildings, ruins, bitter cold holding no hope for warmth or comfort, lights, minimal with shadows lurking in the corners, sadness, disappointment, stale air of nothing, of everything lost—an old empty building that wasn't really so empty, much like her battered heart.

A small room, lived in, but not with much happiness, the bitter cold sadness creeping up to her, icy fingers trailing up and around her scarred heart and soul. Sounds, soft, but disturbing, the strip of yellow light, beckoning Cuddy to come closer, her heart racing, bringing her nearer to the soft disturbing sounds. As she grew closer, she realized…it was the sound of a woman, weeping.

Heart slamming, senses then acute and sharp, reminding her of her own heart slamming against her chest in those moments in the depressing darkness even though right now she felt like her chest was going to burst.

Walking, she could still feel the broken wooden, dusty floors, could still see the light through the crack, feel the cold dampness that her heart was now almost too dangerously familiar with. The weeping, she could remember, louder, broken and hurt, lost.

Her heart was momentarily released, but suddenly she felt the crushing again as the memory progressed, reminding her with every single detail.

The small room, bathed in yellow light. A woman, in a corner, weeping as a man paced back and forth, his head in his hands, troubled, anxious, pained and full of misery. Cuddy stood there, watching, wondering. She was a doctor, after all, thinking they might need medical help.

Knocking softly, startling the man, his eyes suddenly filled with anger and surprise, demanding who she was with a scream loud enough to have fear begin to throb through her body. She staked her profession, asking if they needed help, if they were hurt.

The reason for her journey there momentarily pushed to the back of her mind.

Then, out of the blue, the weeping woman sprung up, almost hysterical, thrust a bundle in Cuddy's arms, _Please! Help her, help her! Please, save her! _Cuddy remembered looking down to bluish cheeks, pale lips with a slight whisper of pink and closed eyes. Though she could not feel through the bundle of rags and her leather gloves, she knew the body would be cold to the touch.

The woman continued to weep, the man started demanding for the doctor to do _something_, but Cuddy knew it was over. She'd been too late.

The baby was dead.

The woman had begun to scream, seeing the devastation in her eyes and Cuddy could hear her clearly and the sound, the memory threatened to drown her completely, drown her into the darkness and abyss, pull her deep enough that she might never come out…

"Dr. Cuddy!"

Cuddy looked up, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, almost panting as her lungs seem to re-inflate as if she'd been deprived of precious oxygen. She felt hands gripping her arms and saw the look of fear and worry in Brenda Priven's eyes.

Her head nurse and most trusted person in the Clinic and hospital always shared a rather personal relationship with her though they preferred not to label it, the woman was one of the first she had hired when she first became the head of Princeton Plainsboro and she trusted her implicitly. And like with her new assistant, Cody, it was a hell of a bonus that Brenda could take House's crap about as well as a normal person would.

"Dr. Cuddy, are you okay?" Brenda asked, worried. "I've been calling you for a while now."

Cuddy shook her head, just realizing then she was gripping the windowsill with a vice-like grip, her knuckles white as sheet. "I'm fine," she stammered, removing her grip from below the window, flexing it lightly at her side.

"You're pale as a sheet," Brenda informed her, her hands still on her arms. "Lisa, are you sure you're okay? What happened?"

"Nothing," she insisted. Brenda was not normally a worrywart, but Cuddy realized she must have been quite a sight if she had caused the unshakable nurse to be shaken so. "I'm fine, really…just tired, I guess. Wilson and House are being…Wilson and House again."

Brenda nodded, her hands slowly sliding away from her boss, just in case she needed support back. "House? What else is new with that one, but Wilson?"

Cuddy smiled a little. "Well, House is bound to rub off on Wilson, right?"

Brenda smiled. "Yeah, let's hope Wilson does the same with him, you know, returning the favor and all…"

The Dean shook her head. "I doubt that, but it's not a crime to dream…"

"Oh well," Brenda said with a shrug. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Cuddy smiled, thankful that someone did care. "Yes, I'm fine. I probably just need coffee or something…I didn't eat much breakfast today."

Brenda frowned. "You better eat, _doctor_. And no coffee yet, you came in drinking a tall one from Starbucks. Tea will be good for now. I'll have Cody get you one, okay?"

Cuddy smiled. "You're too good to me, Nurse Priven. What would I do without you?"

Brenda smiled as she stirred the doctor down the steps, walking with her. "It's a two way street, let's not find out?"

Chuckling, Cuddy let the woman lead her away from her recent near-crash site. It felt good to have someone to smile with, if only for a moment.

-o0o-

House picked up the now tragic looking puppy from Wilson's desk. Tragic, indeed, with the near mangled neck and battered body, the puppy that had been recently employed as the raven-haired Administrator's new stress ball looked as if it was ready to be retired in the trash.

"Wow, not only is she one big ball of bitch, but she's a dog killer too," House commented, waving the mangled toy in front of Wilson who was shaking his head.

"She's been…a bit tense lately," Wilson admitted.

"Yeah, you'd know, wouldn't you, Dr. Phil?" House sneered.

Wilson sighed. "Okay, you're jealous, I get it—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa_!" House said, tossing the mangled puppy aside, the Eulogy he had prepared for the thing now wiped clean from his mind. "Jealous? _Moi? _Monsieur, you are mistaken. You could screw the Dean o' Medicine to Mars for all I care, please. Jealous? Ha!"

"You called me Iago," Wilson said, standing up with his hands on his hips.

"You're the traitorous best friend, it seemed proper at the time," House said, shrugging.

"You called her Lady Macbeth and me as Sit Macbeth," Wilson said, raising an eyebrow like some old wise man doling out platitudes to eager young minds.

"Yeah, the _couple _who plotted against the King," House said, making a _'duh' _face. "Or was that…huh, I don't know. Something like that. I never did care for some idiot who didn't know what to do except write with his bald top head, pigtails on the sides and poofy shirts and tights."

"You're the king?" Wilson asked, walking right into it.

House made the face again. "Uh, duh? Keep up with the class, Jimmy."

Wilson shook his head. "We were just talking, she kissed me because she thinks I worry too much, which of course, I don't."

House smirked. "Kiss of Cuddy? Huh, good thing it was just a kiss. You'd have been dead if she did come for an afternoon delight."

Wilson saw flashes of being murdered by a cane while a half-naked Lisa Cuddy stood screaming in tears on his couch. "You'd kill me for sleeping with Cuddy?"

"No," House drawled out. "_She _would kill _you_. God, Jimmy, didn't you listen during Science class? Black Widows always kill after mating."

Wilson hung his head and plopped himself beside House on the couch. "House…"

"Then again," House said, scratching his chin with his cane. "Dying _after _facing Cuddy's funbags sure is a hell of a way to go. I mean, those things _are _real."

The oncologist rubbed his face with his hands. "House, just tell her you like her…"

"Like her funbags," House said, smirking. "And her ba-donka-donks."

"You like her," Wilson insisted. "What happened anyway? One minute you're turning your hand gangrene after a kiss and then she's smiling about a desk you brought it—"

"That she's replacing," House interrupted, a lace of bitterness in his voice.

Wilson's eyes widened. "What?"

"She doesn't want the old thing," House said as if it were nothing. "It's so Cuddy, always wanting new things and always demanding…she can be a brat, you know. She needs serious spanking."

Wilson was baffled and it showed. "What? Three weeks ago she was positively glowing about her medical school desk!"

House scoffed. "Well, apparently, she's not glowing now."

"Well," Wilson said, scratching his head literally. "What happened? What did _you _do?"

"I don't know!" House intoned. "Ask _her_! She's the crazy one."

Wilson sighed. It would have been just nice to get a box and toss them both inside, lock it and not open it until they were both done admitting they wanted to be _something_. "Right then…are you sure you didn't do anything?"

"Yes," House sounded sure. "I've been an absolute Wilson since then."

"Did she ever find out about your hooker patient that was not so dead?" Wilson inquired. Cuddy had not mentioned it to him and in fear of his own life, Wilson chose to valiantly not mention it.

He could not figure out what was worst: getting killed by Cuddy for not being told sooner or getting killed by House for telling.

"She didn't bitch about it and Kutner and Taub are both still employed and _alive_ so no, she didn't," House shrugged. "And technically, she was _not _a hooker. She's just passing time and earning some doe before she gets a callback from her auditions."

Wilson knew Cuddy was not auditioning for anything so it was obvious he knew who House was talking about. "Really?"

House nodded. "Of course, and she's honest too. Informed me straightway I still had three well paid hours left so…we put it to good use."

Wilson grimaced. "Don't tell me."

House grinned. "Would have, but since you insist…"

"I'm sure," Wilson muttered.

"She's a swallower, by the way," House said quickly and clearly.

His best friend almost gagged. "House!"

"What?" he asked, pretending to look confused. "I just told you she likes to swallow," Wilson cringed. "It's not like I told her she did this fabulous thing with her teeth when she—"

"Oh god!" Wilson exclaimed, his hands over his ears.

House snickered. "I'd expected you to stop me sooner, but hey, curiosity did get the cat off."

Wilson cringed. "Oh God, I really don't know what Cuddy…"

House waited, eyebrows up.

Wilson stared at his friend. "Wait, wait…you don't think Cuddy…"

House's brows furrowed. "Don't think Cuddy what? Gets off on cats? No, don't think so. She's more a dominatrix than cross-species sex."

"No!" Wilson cried. "No, I mean, you don't think Cuddy found out about your hooker, right?"

House looked doubtful. "No way, everything happened at my pad, dude. I wouldn't have sex in the office, that would be _unethical._"

Wilson scoffed. "Yeah, because you're so ethical, House. I'm being serious here."

House rolled his eyes. "No, mother, I did not bring my spring fling to school. She likes it outside with me and all. She's totally cool."

Wilson looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

"Totally, man," House said, waving his cane. "Besides, Cuddy would freak if she knew I brought my special friend here. Think of how many clinic hours would that get her."

Wilson thought for a moment. Cuddy had not mentioned the hooker patient or anything much from that day, not even the desk or the office renovations. House did have a point that if Cuddy knew he had been faking cases and pulled a prank on his team _and _had a perfectly healthy hooker admitted _with _the cooperation of his former team, she would have come barreling in with a pine box and a six-foot deep hole ready outside the hospital with a tomb stone labeled Gregory House: the Crippled Manwhore.

Then again, if Wilson knew how a woman's mind thinks, and mind you, he almost does, it was possible, if she was in love with House, which Wilson believed she really was, then it was possible she _did _know, but came to a conclusion House didn't care for her as she had originally thought and decided not to face the humiliation of confronting him so she settled for stewing in her anger and letting a veil of her doing her job in making _him _do his job to vent out all her hurt and anger by being constantly angry at everything he does or doesn't.

The idea almost worked in Wilson's head, but then a voice, which sounded eerily annoying like as House trumped the idea, chiding him he'd been watching too many soap operas with his best friend and was thinking too much like a junior high school girl with a pathetic crush. Also, the voice added with an imaginary eye roll, it didn't sound all too much like sensible Cuddy.

Nodding dejectedly, Wilson conceded defeat, bending to his inner House voice and stacking the idea away to the very back of his brain. Sure, it didn't sound so good with that pesky voice in his head, but Wilson hoped later it might just be useful, if not in this life then when he finally loses his job through and along with House. Maybe he could write a novella or something.

He'd base it on the two, exaggerate it a little or just plainly write it as is. They were both potential best-selling Nicholas Sparks novels without added fiction, provided someone dies, he wasn't sure who, though he guessed in this novel she would end up killing House then that would be happy ending instead of the usual Sparks storylines where someone dies, bleeding heart and all.

Realizing he'd been rambling in his mind, Wilson shook his head. "Then I don't know, House. I really don't know, she hasn't said anything specifically earth shattering."

"She just likes to bitch," House mumbled. "She'd have bitched my ears off about the hooker."

Wilson nodded. "Maybe."

Dense as Wilson was at times, he does get his fine moments when he stumbles upon answers, it was only sad that sometimes when he stumbles on them, he would shake the dust off, put the offending thought aside and move on.

Later he would realize he had been right and once more, House, in his own way, managed to trump him with a bluff. He would also realize that he could have saved hell from breaking loose and for everything crumbling around him.

Then again, how else was House going to learn if their world didn't crumble?

-o0o-

Sorry I just updated! I had to bring my laptop in for some cleaning and tweaking before Christmas. I didn't want to see fireworks while reading and writing HOUSE.

Anyway, here it is. Please review, I enjoy them immensely! And to the ones who commented on my brilliant sister….thank you! It's good to know I'm not alone in this torture!

Guess what she's getting for Christmas from me?

Oh, and I hope you don't mind Nurse Brenda along for the ride. I always wanted Cuddy to have a _real _friend on the show…she's always so alone with Wilson having House and the Ducklings together. It seems so unfair, let's hope House grows some next year and actually starts thinking like a man for Cuddy?

BTW, Cuddy will have a friend, aside from Nathan and Elliot, come along. I love my new characters, I hope you'll learn to love them too, when I finally bring them in, of course.

_Sweet Little Lies _by _Michael Franti_

Chapter Two, I forgot to add, pardon me:

_Let it be _by _The Beatles_

Oh, and by the way...

**Advance MERRY CHRISTMAS to all! I hope you'd consider this a gift, a little one at that, but you should know, I'd kiss and hug you all if I could!**

xoxOphelia


	5. Chapter 4: With a Little Help

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: slower than the show. Christmas will be coming…later.

Note: As always, thank you so much for the reviews! Thank you so much, it made my Christmas a lot more fun and meaningful! I love reviews, I love you all! And to those who are newbies on the Huddy-bandwagon, WELCOME! You have just stumbled upon one of the bestest ships in TV-history ever. House and Cuddy are about as perfect together as…House and Cuddy. Enjoy! This will be the wildest ship ride ever.

Chapter Four: With a little help from my friends

It was basic knowledge to James Wilson that once Greg House was in his space, all work and other things non-House related were to be ignored. Of course, since meeting the stranger who bailed him out of jail for no reason, he'd learn quite a few things about the do's, don't's, can's and won't's. He'd tried, a long, _long_ time ago that having House adjust to him and their surroundings was next to impossible, Wilson had learned to adjust and adapt for himself.

So, for today, as usual, with House plopped onto his couch with his cane, Wilson pushed his paperwork aside, mentally memo-ed himself about hiring an unattractive (for both his and House's sakes) assistant to help him with his never ending paperwork.

He also mentally noted that maybe he should ask Cody if she had some sort of twin or ask the address of where work-angels like her fell. With his luck lately, Wilson was still hopeful God would give him a well-deserved break.

Putting up with Greg House was bound to be worth a few good deeds, right?

Leaning back in his seat, Wilson watched his friend. "So, what do_ you _really think?"

House looked up. "About what?"

"Answer the question," Wilson sighed.

House rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, looking contemplative. "Yes. No. I'd love to. I don't bite. Blue. To get to the other side. Because. Rolling Stones—"

"Cut the crap," Wilson scolded. Genius Greg House may be, Wilson learned a long time ago he was just as well an overgrown child. This was why he told his ex-wife Bonnie he didn't want kids. He practically already had one, complete with rebellion, drugs and booze.

House shrugged. "You said answer the question, I didn't know what you were talking about so I winged it. I thought if I said enough I'd eventually hit something, right?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Yeah, with your face head on with my knuckle…"

House raised a finger and began waving it. "Ah, ah, ah, Jimmy. Violence bad, no fighting, be a good boy, yeah?"

"Grow up," Wilson said dryly. "I was asking about what you really think about this whole thing with Cuddy and that patient's relative."

"Brother," House corrected. "It was a patient's brother."

"Oh, right," Wilson said, nodding. "It's just a brother, right? Something goes bad, he won't do anything. Yes, probably not, but wait," he widened his eyes. "Remember that case? The one where Chase's dad died and you ended up working _under _Foreman? Wasn't that guy the girl's brother? Yeah?"

"She died because of him," House said snottily. "Chase was the doctor because the idiot dropped my pills. The brother was driven by guilt because he thought he killed her."

Wilson nodded. "What about that guy who almost ran you over?"

"Husband," House answered quickly. "The idiot confused me giving his wife AIDS when he was the one getting the afternoon delight from the cougar on the 14th floor of his office."

"What about the Mafia guy?"

"Brother yes, but," he waved his cane. "He bitch-slapped _Chase_, he gave me a car. Poor wombat's hair got a little messy."

"What about…"

"Best friend," House said immediately. "In love with his married best friend who he's had a major bleeding heart for since, like, forever, but she was, like, too blind to see him," he channeled his inner Valley girl. "Like, she was so stupid, she died."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"Didn't have to, Jimmy. You're too predictable."

"Am not."

"Watch this, I'll say you are and you'll say you're not then since I said this you won't."

Wilson opened his mouth then closed it.

House grinned. "Told ya so. I'm good."

"Not fair."

"Never is."

Wilson shook his head. "Forget it."

"Forget what?"

"What do you think about this whole deal with Cuddy?"

"You worry too much."

"I just…" Wilson shook his head. "I just think she needs to take care of herself more. She's always running around and never slows down. I don't want to anything happen to her especially when we can avoid it. I'm sure you agree."

House pretended to look thoughtful. "Uh…no. Don't care."

"House."

"Wilson," House said, sounding as if he was losing his patience. "It's Cuddy. She can take care of herself. She's one hell of a bitch-goddess."

"No one is invincible, House. Not even her."

"She'll be fine."

"We don't know that. Anything can happen."

"Yeah, anything," House said, leaning forward and twirling his cane in one hand. "Say, like…a garbage truck crashing against a bus?"

Wilson stiffened.

"This isn't about Cuddy," House said, lowering his head while letting his eyes stay on his friend. A part of him screamed this was not a good idea, they were already in a good place, they did not need to revisit some somewhat still fresh wounds, but everyone thought he had a death wish and this was fine, almost. He pushed, goaded, browbeat people daily. It was who he was. "This is about losing Amber."

Wilson didn't answer immediately as thoughts raised through his mind. He never blamed House for Amber, or at least he didn't know, if he ever did, he wasn't sure. He had loved her, truly and losing her had been excruciating. He was okay, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about her yet. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to talk about it with House.

And now, typical House, he was pushing to take focus off himself.

Wilson learned a long time ago to both push back and ignore House's techniques of deflecting. "This is _not_ about Amber," he said, evenly. "This is about Cuddy. I care about her, she's been there for me and for _you_ too many times to count. She's practically alone, she's been through…a lot. Nine point five times out of ten, she worries about everyone_ but_ herself. Someone's got to do that for her, House, before something goes wrong."

"Translation," House mumbled. "'Before she pulls a Lizzie Borden with the Hospital and crashes."

Wilson sighed. "No, House, translation: Before she breaks down."

"She won't," House retorted. "This is Lisa Cuddy we are talking about. She's genetically programmed not to fail, to have a guilt-complex and to have the best _ass_ets in every age group she enters. Her control-freakness enables her to not crash and not die until everything is perfect, neat, spotless and squeaky clean and her borderline obsession to perfection and detail will dictate that _nothing _will ever be perfect and neat and spotless or squeaky clean."

"She's human," Wilson said simply.

"Honestly? Sometimes, I doubt that."

"You care about her, you're deflecting," Wilson pointed out. "You went as far as using Amber."

"What can I say?" House shrugged with a smirk. "I am an ass."

"You like her."

"I like her ass."

"You kissed her."

"Wouldn't you? I kissed her with tongue, dude."

"You grabbed her…er, her…"

"They're called breasts, Wilson. And yes, they are real."

"I was confused about what term you're using now on them. And you said that already."

"Jealous?"

"No."

"You are."

"No, I'm not. We're just friends, I care about her."

"You wanted to see her naked."

"And I did."

House raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing him. "You have not."

"No, I haven't."

"Liar."

"Druggie."

"Whore."

"Drunk."

"Cheater."

"Jerk."

"Wimp."

"Ass."

"Thank you. You have big, bushy, _ugly_ eyebrows."

"You are an ass."

"Eh!" came the mock buzzer sound. "Repeater! You lose."

"Childish," Wilson muttered. "I'm trying to talk to you."

"And I'm leaving," House got up and headed for the door.

"House."

"General Hospital reruns, they're more fascinating than you."

"You don't care about Cuddy?"

House stopped. "I care about the hand that signs my paychecks."

"You have tenure," Wilson pointed out.

"I care about not having to train a new idiot hospital bureaucrat after all the work I've put on the current one with the big ass," House said.

Wilson shook his head. "So if something happened, if someone did do something to her, you wouldn't care? As long as she lives and is still able to write and walk?"

House turned to his friend. "Well, I'd need her to see and hear too. She needs to see this," he motioned for himself. "Because, really, I'm a god, and even banshee-Cuddy doesn't deserve to be deprived like that. And how else can I annoy her most if she's deaf to the world, and most importantly, to moi?"

"If you don't care, I do," Wilson said. "I'm not going to sit by and let something happen. She's a raging workaholic. She needs to slowdown if she wants more than a decade in this place. An angry relative pissed off at her is not something she needs to add to the list."

House shook his head. "And here comes the white knight and his jackass named Jimmy."

"Some people actually know how to care."

"Some people don't often get three ex-wives."

"You're in the wrong city. My cousin in New York is up to wife number seven."

"Oh, so infidelity and idiot runs in the family? Now I feel warm and fuzzy," House said sarcastically. "Do whatever you want. Go be Cuddy's white knight in rusty used armor and I'll watch. You _know _she doesn't need one, she'll probably kick your tushie. She's Cuddy."

"She's alone," Wilson pointed out. "Anything can happen."

House rolled his eyes. "We're in _New Jersey_, Wilson. Not New York. She'll be fine."

Wilson shook his head. "This Nathan person …there might be something about him and it's quite obvious Cuddy thinks so too if she was willing enough to escape with your lie and _you_."

House sighed exasperatedly. "What do you want me to do? Call my P.I. and see if the guy is a raging rapist slash murder?"

Wilson eyes widened. "Now that you mention it. That's…that's a good idea, House."

House made a face. "No."

"Why not?" Wilson asked. "The guy's gotta be good if you hired him."

"I hired him because he was cheap," House insisted.

"Funny, that's what Cuddy said about you," Wilson mused with a grin.

"No," House pressed then pointed his cane. "She hired me because one night I gave her everything she asked for now she's giving all I ask, and more, in return."

Wilson's eyes widened. "You and Cuddy? When?"

"Oh, don't get your curlers in a bunch," House scowled. "It was a long time ago and I rather not remember or mention. It was horrible the first time, reliving it would be…"

"Hot?"

"Traumatizing," he groused.

"So, can I have your P.I.'s number?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"He's mine," House said simply. "Cuddy tried to poach him, but it didn't work out."

Wilson sat back, watching his friend before grinning like a cat. "Oh, now I see…"

"What?"

"Your P.I., Lucas, was it?" Wilson stood up and walked around his friend to face his friend who stood near the door. "I'm guessing…he likes Cuddy?"

He would never admit it, but House had grown a little bit predictable too.

House rolled his eyes. "He likes her shoes."

"He likes her legs," Wilson cocked his head to the side, staring at the wall behind House. "Come to think of it…she _does _have great legs."

House did not look amused.

Shaking his head, Wilson straightened his coat and headed out the door. "Come on, House, let's grab some snack that you'll make me pay for. My treat."

"Isn't it always?"

"Yes, it's why I said 'make me pay for' and 'my treat'."

"You're not using my P.I...."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And with a slam of the door, thanks to House, the conversation was over.

Seventeen minutes later, while picking through a pile of French fries, Wilson dialed Lucas Douglas, Private Investigator and left his number and name to be called back.

No one said a word, but for another rare moment, Wilson had earned himself a small victory.

-o0o-

Stalking through the halls after dropping a set of papers to be signed for Dr. Matthews, Cody found herself drawn to the nurses cluttered on the front desk of the clinic on her way back. Usually, with such open doors as the free clinic, nurses didn't and weren't allowed to clump around to share their gossip and giggle on the clock, but, as Cody knew, the head Nurse Brenda Priven was inside with the Dean, they had free reign for a moment.

It was a rare opportunity, not to be under the watchful eye of Nurse Brenda _and _have a not so crowded waiting area they were taking advantage of it while they could.

Cody, curious as to the topic of the day, wandered to the group. At first, it had been weird, being new and younger than most of them, but they were welcoming. They'd explained, the first time, they were used to new assistants to doctor Cuddy, even mentioning she used to have a male one who, inevitably, Dr. House had driven out in record time.

"Hey, what's up today?" Cody casually asked, feeling much like the new girl in High School still.

Nurse Emily Thorpe, a blonde with green eyes that everyone knew dated both Dr. Wilson and Foreman, separately, grinned mischievously. "Oh, you tell us. We saw that delicious stranger in Dr. Cuddy's office. Who is he? New date? Because we _know_ he's _not _an old flame, we have _never _seen him before so, spill. Is Dr. Cuddy getting back on the horse—or better yet, _man_?"

Cody shrugged. "Oh, he was just coming for a consult. I referred him to Dr. Wilson, but—"

"Dr. Wilson?" Nurse Jane Harold, a transfer from Radiology to Clinic squeaked. "Oncology? No way, he has cancer?"

Cody shook her head. "No, no. Not him. His brother and he heard about Dr. Cuddy, but she's not an Oncologist so she told him about Dr. Wilson. He took his number and asked about his office, left his name and number for Dr. Cuddy, asking her to call him then went off, I guess to look for Dr. Wilson to talk."

"He didn't go there, that I know," Nurse Catherine Trent inserted, her brown eyes falling on Cody. "I was just there, I saw him with Dr. House."

"So I guess he left," Cody said, shrugging again. No gossip today, she was both relieved and let down. If it wasn't about Dr. Cuddy, it could have been interesting, like Dr. Thomas Mandingo's wife coming in and flirting with two of the orderlies. It was a hush-hush detail of the rumor that he caught her kissing one of them in his office, but no one was sure since they'd seen the couple together a few times around, looking happier than ever.

Nurse Emily refused to be deflated, shaking her short blonde hair. "Okay then, who is he? Did he _really _come for his brother or was he remotely interested in Dr. Cuddy? Because, if not, I don't mind a little…"

Nurse Catherine rolled her eyes. "Aren't you dating that Resident, Eckley?"

The blonde scowled at the brunette. "No, that guy…he lives with his mother."

Cody snickered. "Wow, hot."

She had nothing against guys living with their mothers, but Joseph Eckley was a pompous, self-absorbed jerk who walked down the halls as if he was the best thing around the hospital that he had managed to piss off not only the nurses and his peers, but also, at one point, the Dean. Everyone knew he was two steps away from saying 'adios'.

Why Nurse Emily dated him was a mystery to everyone, though Cody suspected she made a bet with her close friend, Nurse Stephanie Michaels, a nurse from Pediatrics.

"Hot not, now tell us, information, Gomez, and we need it now," Nurse Jane insisted.

"His name is Nathan Andrei Winslow, he's a lawyer," Cody said almost excitedly. "He's got these electric green eyes and wears expensive suits that looked suspiciously like Armani, he smells…dangerously intoxicating. He's got the most to-die-for dimples and a cleft on his chin, gorgeous smile, is seriously nice and…he's seriously hot."

The nurses stared at her, swooning, at the painted picture. Nurses Emily and Jane both had glazed looks in their eyes while Nurse Catherine had hers closed dreamily. Theses women, three of them between ages thirty-two and forty, were all single at the moment and at the way Cody knew she painted the man, they were going to have some serious attraction with the stranger.

Cody did always find it amusing when women fell all over themselves over a stranger. It was both interesting and grotesque, but all in all potentially hilarious.

"You said you have his number?" Nurse Catherine ventured.

"Sorry, can't," Cody said with a grin. "I love you, but I love my job more. And my head, since Dr. Cuddy won't hesitate using the guillotine if need be, as I've been told." She winked. "Good luck, and sweet dreams. Ciao, ladies."

Nurse Emily sighed. "Sweet dreams indeed."

Slipping into her 'office' Cody took a peek into Dr. Cuddy's office to find Nurse Brenda still inside, sitting on the visitor's seat while Dr. Cuddy cradled her cup of tea in both hands, smiling a little as the nurse talked. It was likely the nurse was passing off gossip to the doctor who didn't usually care for idle gossip, as long as her hospital ran smoothly, but she was a woman, after all, a little gossip never hurt.

Fingering the card Nathan Winslow left her, Cody slipped it into her desk drawer, mentally telling herself to give it to Dr. Cuddy once she was settled again. She hadn't given it at first, seeing the Dean looked tensed while walking in with Nurse Brenda. Maybe later would work better.

Grabbing another pile of paperwork, another legal battle raging against Dr. House, Cody went on with work. Lunch was coming soon, she would try and ask Dr. Cuddy if she'd like to eat lunch with her. The woman barely remembered to eat half the time, Cody worried about her.

-o0o-

"They are at it again."

Brenda turned around and saw her staff huddled around the front desk, gossiping most probably, about God knows what. She turned to her boss and friend, "It's a slow day, it's harmless for now."

"They're corrupting my assistant," Cuddy complained, watching them listen to Cody who seemed to be talking about something pleasantly nice. "I choose my God-sent assistant over your three gossip-driven nurses, not kidding."

"She's fine," Brenda said with a smile. "If I didn't know you, I'd say you've gone gay and fell in love with young Ms. Gomez."

Cuddy made a face, "God, I might as well be…when was the last time I went on a date?"

Brenda thought for a moment. "There was that cute guy from…somewhere. Jake? John? Something with a J on it…"

"Jacob?" Cuddy offered. "Jacob Adams. We had _a _date…"

"That House crashed?"

Cuddy nodded. "Like always…God!"

"What?"

"That was…" she counted. "almost a year ago now!"

"Hm…that was a December," Brenda mused. "Yeah, a few days before Christmas…"

"If he wasn't so smart, I would string him up and beat him with a stick," Cuddy seethed lightly. "Every single damned time I have a date or _anyone _he chases them away!"

Brenda smirked. "Told you to fire him."

"He's good at what he does."

"He's not worth it if he keeps ruining your personal life," Brenda pointed out. "You're choosing the hospital over your own life again. How screwed up is that?"

"Very?" Cuddy grimaced. "My job is all I've got right now and probably all I'll ever have at the rate House and I are going."

"What's between you and House anyway? You two have been more…tense than ever."

Cuddy knew she could trust Brenda Priven. The woman was one of the few people in the hospital she would dare trust with her life, let alone her private secrets. Brenda had long ago proven her worth both as a friend and someone to trust. Cuddy knew she could tell her anything without being judged, but even with her, she was not sure she could tell her about what _happened _between her and the diagnostician.

She could talk to Wilson that much she knew, because she was sure House was probably telling him just as much, maybe more (though she doubted it). To tell Brenda Priven, who was not even aware of her past intimate relationship with House, was most probably out of the question.

She tried imagining telling Brenda about House coming to her place then kissing her then leaving or House grabbing her breast…maybe not. She couldn't imagine it, how else could she do it?

"He's being difficult more so than usual," she muttered, sipping her tea.

"You've been biting his head off more so than usual," Brenda pointed out.

Cuddy stared at the nurse. She was tempted to explode about House and the hooker, Wilson not being much help, Nathan Winslow coming back into her life, House and the hooker…

Placing her tea down, she leaned back. House and the hooker…House and the hooker…

_She couldn't have been, right?_

Maybe not. She wondered if she jumped into conclusions.

Then the image of the hooker _touching _his chest and then his stupid leather jacket in his office flashed from her memory. He _never _let anyone touch him unless it was absolutely necessary. House was simply the type _not _to touch and the woman was so comfortable around him and he seemed comfortable around her too.

And House didn't like change…was it possible it was 'his' hooker?

The thought of House being someone's regular client made her cringe.

"Lisa?"

Cuddy looked up to see Brenda staring at her. "What?"

"You spaced out again," Brenda replied, looking at her oddly. "You okay? You seem a bit distracted today."

"Oh," was all Cuddy could say. "Just the thing…with Wilson was a bit weird. I went there for some…head clearing then it just messed me up more since House barged in when he saw me kiss Wilson then…"

"Wait, wait," Brenda cut in immediately, waving her hands. "_You _**kissed **_Wilson_? As in James Wilson, Head of Oncology, three time divorcee with recently dead fourth love of his life?"

"It's not what you think!" Cuddy defended. "I was just thanking him for caring, you know…he was pressing me about Nathan and he was just worried he might come after me and stuff."

Brenda raised an eyebrow. "You do know this is James Wilson at work, right? Do you even know how he managed to hook in three Mrs. Wilsons?"

Cuddy shook her head. "No, and how do _you_ know?"

"Honey," Brenda smirked. "How many of the nurses do you think have come close to being the fourth before Amber?"

Cuddy shook her head again. "Brenda, I don't want to hear that. And no, it's not like that. Wilson is just being caring. I think it's hard for him to think about someone else getting hurt after Amber."

"Then stay away from buses."

Cuddy frowned. "You're being mean. You saw how hurt he was after losing Amber."

"Fine," Brenda sighed. "I know, I was sad for him, but get this," she leaned forward. "You even come close to sleeping with James Wilson, I will have you committed."

Cuddy laughed. "Fine."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Sure. After I finish my year-end report," she promised.

Satisfied, Brenda leaned back. "So, next up, the one subject I am ninety-nine percent sure the nurses are talking about: what's the deal with your 'visitor'? You know him? He's kind of gorgeous."

Cuddy's smile faded. "I don't know him. He's just a brother with cancer."

"Did you refer him to Wilson?" Brenda asked then shook her head. "Of course you did." She grinned. "Oh, good. Something nice to watch for a change. The staff will be a little distracted, but he _is _beautiful so…what the hell? I'm in for some eye candy."

Cuddy grimaced.

"What? You don't think he's gorgeous?" Brenda asked, surprised. "Lisa, the man is…Brad Pitt in that vampire movie, George Clooney in Armani and Hugh Grant without the hooker charge."

Cuddy wrinkled her nose. "Hm…I like Hugh Grant best."

"You're deflecting and it's not working," Brenda pointed out. "Plus, Clooney rushing through the halls of this hospital? God, I'd never clock out."

"Don't you have a husband at home?"

"What husband?" Brenda asked before laughing.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Don't let Dave her you say that."

"Please," Brenda scoffed. "The only guy he'd let me cheat on with him is George Clooney. He still thinks I became a nurse because of him…"

"You've been married, what," Cuddy counted. "Nine years and he still doesn't know your age?"

"Careful," Brenda warned. "I get ugly when you call out the wrong_ numero_."

"Have you been watching _telanovelas _again?" Cuddy asked, shaking her head.

Brenda smiled. "Yes. Something from the Philippines…their storylines are so screwed up, like all the crap in the world happens to their lead characters, the tunnel is so dark, you'll start wondering if there ever was light in the first place."

Cuddy laughed. "You and House…who'd have thought you'd have so much in common?"

Brenda smirked. "Want to see how match-y we are? Here: you're still deflecting, you have not lost me so answer me."

"You asked me nothing," Cuddy said. "You were talking about my visitor."

Brenda turned to the Clinic were she saw Cody turning to the office back in time. She noticed the glazed look on the nurses' faces then shook her head. "My, my, my, we're all buzzing, aren't we? They _are_ talking about your beautiful stranger."

Cuddy shook her head. "Great. Dazed and love stuck nurses. Beautiful."

Brenda stared at her boss. "Grouchy today, aren't we, Dr. House?"

Cuddy stared at Brenda, feeling a slight jump with the thought of being called Dr. House, not in a way that she wanted to _be _Dr. House, but to be like Dr. Cuddy-Hou…

_What the hell?_

"What?" Cuddy gasped, shaking her head, her hand flying to her temple.

"You okay?"

"I'm losing my mind," Cuddy said, eyes wide. "Did I just…God, Priven, what the hell did you have put in my tea? Weed?"

"Uh, no, Miss Smartass," Brenda huffed. "What are you on, anyway?"

"Don't _ever _call me Dr. House."

"Why? It's not like you'll ever be Dr. House."

Cuddy shook her head. "Just…don't. I'm getting serious bad visuals from that. I hate having a good imagination."

Brenda stared at Cuddy, an eyebrow raised. "Did you get much sleep last night or are you really high? Cody is still sort of in college with her night school thing, maybe _she _put weed in your drink. They're really weird, they can get you pretty baked."

"Baked?" Cuddy repeated, grinning. "What are you, in the nineties?"

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, I did manage to have a life in college and a few years after that. I wasn't as committed to the books."

"I wasn't too," Cuddy insisted. "I got pretty wild in college and maybe before that."

"Seriously?" Brenda snorted.

Cuddy shook her head. "Nothing, forget it. We have the most bizarre conversations in this office." She checked her watch. "What am I signing your paychecks for again?"

"Bizarre keeps you sane," Brenda grinned but Cuddy gave her a look. "Fine, fine. You'll tell me soon enough about your hot visitor, if not, I'm sure I'll just catch you drooling, which is better, really, since they've invented camera phones. And about getting 'wild'," she used air quotes, to which prompted Cuddy to roll her eyes. "In college, if that is true, and you will too, you know it."

Cuddy smirked. "Yeah, right…now, go gather your cheerleaders. The waiting area is filling up."

Waving, Brenda headed out the door. "Lunch, I heard your cafeteria is going edible-gourmet for a change today. Let's bring mini-you along."

"Mini-what?"

"Mini-Cuddy," Brenda said over her shoulder. "You know, Cody? I still think it's ironic her name sounds like your last name. Cody Cuddy…ever thought about adopting?"

Shaking her head, Cuddy waved her friend out the door as she finished off her tea.

Feeling a little more loose, Cuddy rotated her head and breathed out. She was ready for work now. Moving her mouse, she clicked on to her year-end report, determined to finish before her scheduled personal deadline.

Then a knock came just as she was about to start typing. "Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes, Cody?" she asked without looking up, typing furiously now.

"I, uh," she walked in, slowly. "Mr. Winslow left his card for you. Would you like to keep it? He asked for you to call him, anytime."

Looking up with her fingers frozen over various keys, Cuddy bit her bottom lip. "What?"

"Mr. Winslow left a card, he wants you to call him," Cody said, laying the card on her desk.

"Did he say why?" Cuddy asked, slowly.

"No, but I'm assuming it's about his brother," she answered. Upon seeing a confused look on Cuddy's face, Cody added, "He told me about his brother."

Cuddy nodded. "Okay, thank you. Maybe I will. To check if he's sure about his brother's decisions."

Smiling Cody began walking out.

"Cody?"

She stopped and turned with a smile. "Dr. Cuddy?"

"Nurse Brenda and I are going to eat later in the cafeteria, would you like to join us?" Cuddy asked with a smile.

Grinning, Cody nodded. "Yes, of course. I was going to ask you. That would be great, thank you."

Almost skipping out of the room, the barely out of college assistant slipped out, closing the doors softly behind her. Cuddy's fingers left their position on the keyboard as she stared at the cream colored business card in the middle of her desk.

Drumming her fingers on a filled out requisition form from Dr. Cooper Brennan, Cuddy stared at the little card, torn between picking it up and flicking it off her desk.

Nathan Winslow's number, along with his job information and company stood out in a deep black ink on the plain paper, screaming out the numbers Lisa Cuddy knew by heart, but never called.

-o0o-

Okay, this sucked.

By the way, big question…I remember finding out somewhere that Lisa Edelstein's parents _both _have been on House at some point…I was really curious and tried to find out, but…didn't. So I was wondering if anyone here knew? I would really love to know. Finding out would be the best Christmas/New Year present ever!

**Anyway it is PAST 12am already and that means HAPPY NEW YEAR! **My new year's resolution is to, for once in my life, fulfill a new year's resolution and my _other_ new year's resolution is to…update faster because even I am frustrated with my super turtle speed!

Loves to everyone and thank you so much for reviewing!

Oh, and who wants to see the cutest PI to ever? Should we welcome dear Lucas Douglas back? _He was such a cutie part of me actually hoped something happened with him and Cuddy! He was just too cute! _Let me know!

_With a little help from my friends _by _The Beatles_

P.S. I know my characters have been a little bit OOC, but I promise, I'm fixing it. As of January 1, 2009 12.30AM, I started a House marathon with my sister so I can actually write them in character in here while everyone else in the neighborhood are trying to get their fingers blown up. I'm starting with Season 5 then 1 – 4. I love DVD's!

**Happy New Year everyone! **Hold on to your fingers and don't get drunk stupid, hangovers are not the best way to welcome 2009!

With love,  
xoxOphelia


	6. Chapter 5: Here We Go Again

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas…will come.

Note: Thank you for the reviews, as always. Will be updating faster, I promise…please review? I'm addicted, please feed my addiction.

And thanks so much for the Detox info! Totally saw them, thank you! I saw them on the View, but it was funny seeing them on House! I thought her mum would be a patient, I didn't peg her to be a nurse! Coolio. Thanks for everyone who helped! And as for Mr. Lucas Douglas...some of you want some PI action, some don't...we'll see, I have this scene of him with House and Wilson playing out, but nothing's definite. Elliot, I realized, will be coming a little later, but Nathan is going to be sticking around a lot...Like a lot. See this chapter, you'll see what I mean. I think this is the result of moi losing what's left of my marbles!

Chapter Five: Here We Go Again

Dr. Allison Cameron enjoyed working in her Emergency Room, have been used to it long before she was appointed as Head shortly after quitting her job under Greg House. While working in the Diagnostic Department had been both exhilarating and challenging, working at the ER gave Cameron better high, a sense of pleasurable rush going through patient after patient, having them burst through those sliding doors with ringing ambulances and a team full of paramedics, blood, gore, panic, chaos—it was all exciting, all exhilarating and fast paced. She would never admit it, it would be too insensitive, but she loved the rush it gave her.

Of course, she loved the fact that she could help more people and actually have the chance to get to know them mattered more to her. Working on the Diagnostic team, she was out, most of the time running tests, discussing symptoms in the office, working long, irregular hours and having just one patient per week, sometimes none. Working in the ER, where she could have ten patients in ten areas while another twenty waited, it made her feel more accomplished.

Unlike working for the Diagnostic team, she didn't have much time lounging around in crosswords or make coffee or open someone else's mail. Working in the ER, she had more patients than she could want, heal more people than she could imagine. Living with her new job and position, Allison Cameron realized—she was happier in the ER.

Would she come back? The temptation would be there, but the reasons would wipe it out in a second, reminding her she was helping and healing more where she was now.

Today, in a thankfully quiet moment not too long before lunch, Cameron found herself patching up seven-year-old Tina Langston who loved robots, chocolates and painting. She insisted to be called 'Tin-tin' and consistently talked about her family. Her mother, Linda, was from the Philippines who met her father, Eric, in New Jersey where she came to work. Tina was an only child and was at the moment, scheming a plan to "make" her mother "get" her a little brother to play robots with. Her dream in life was to make robots.

Cameron was working on her knee, stitching it up while Tina amused her with stories of grade school, playing dodge ball and the meanness of boys who won't share their robots with her. She was brave for her age, never hesitating to choose what color to choose to patch her up and asking her frantic mother to "wait outside and read like a good girl".

After patching up chatty Ms. Tin-tin and getting ready for another patient, Cameron saw a handsome looking man, standing by the ER, hands in his pockets in a black suit. Walking over to a nurse on duty, "Excuse me, Nurse Ellen," she said, quietly even though the man would have been too far still to hear if she talked normally. "How long has that man been there?"

Nurse Ellen Drew looked over, grinning. "Oh, he's been there for a while now. He's just standing there, don't think he knows anyone. Maybe he's a donor or something."

"Or an undertaker," Cameron muttered, noting his sleek black suit.

Nurse Ellen grinned. "God, I hope not, he's too beautiful for that…"

Cameron grinned. "You never know."

"Want me to talk to him?" Nurse Ellen asked, looking giddy.

Shaking her head, Cameron pointed a finger at her, "You're married. I'll go talk to him."

"I'm telling Dr. Chase," Nurse Ellen said, sticking her tongue out.

Shaking her head, Cameron approached the man who was still seemingly unaware he'd been noticed. She observed him as she neared, noting his expensive suit once more, his well-groomed blonde hair that reminded her a little of her boyfriend only with dark streaks of brown, he stood with a somber stance and withdrawnness, and his obliviousness noticeable.

The man looked almost lost, as he stared at another doctor working on an injured man, though from what Cameron observed, it was possible he was not really seeing anything particular.

Clearing her throat, she asked professionally, "Sir? I'm Dr. Allison Cameron, I'm the head of this department. How may I help you?"

Snapping his head up to face her as if she'd jolted him out of a deep thought, green eyes meeting green, though his were a darker shade of green, like emeralds compared to hers. "Oh, sorry…No, I was just," his left hand slipped out of his pocket and went to his hair, combing it back. "I was looking around and well, I didn't know it'd lead to here, the Emergency Room. It's my first time here, doctor, so I got a little bit lost."

She noted he was nervous and reminded herself, he was definitely older than her. "Oh, okay. Do you have anyone admitted here?"

"No."

Cameron nodded, "Do you know anyone who works here?"

"Sort of."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "Either you do or you don't."

The corners of his lips turned up. "It's not that simple, Dr. Cameron."

"Okay," she was used to difficult people. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

He looked around, seemingly more at ease now. "Not really, I'm just looking. I _do_ know someone who works here."

"May I know who? I might know him…or her."

She was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with this guy, either that or he was just some weirdo looking someone to mess with.

"Her," he said, smiling a little. "But she's a little busy right now so I took it upon myself to…look."

"Okay," Cameron said with a smile. "Well, like I said, you're in the ER. Ground floor, near the back of the hospital although you really can't tell since the hospital has four corners…"

He smiled. "Yeah, though to be honest, I expected this to be…more exciting."

"Television's not always as real as you think," she said, leaning against the door in her pink scrubs, gloves crumpled in one hand. She could feel Nurse Ellen's eyes in the back of her skull. Chase was going to love this.

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "No, I'm not a big fan of…medical shows. I'm more into crime and law stuff. No," he shrugged. "I'm from New York and I've seen my fair share of emergencies, this has to be the quietest ER I've ever seen."

Cameron chuckled. "Well, it's a quiet day. Fortunately…"

He grinned. "Yes."

She nodded then her brow furrowed. "You never…uh, mentioned your name."

He shifted, smiling. "Right, sorry. I'm Nathan Winslow."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Winslow," she said, shaking his hand.

"You too, Dr. Cameron."

She smiled. "Would you like me to check on your friend? I can call if you…"

"Oh, no, that's okay," he said, waving his left hand. "I'd like to look around more. You have a very impressive hospital."

"Thank you," she said, nodding. "We try."

"Yeah," he said. "I should congratulate my friend."

Cameron's brow furrowed again. "Uh, who did you say your friend was?"

He bit his bottom lip. "Uh, my friend…her name is Lisa. Lisa Cuddy."

Eyes widening a little, Cameron smiled involuntarily.

A friend of the Dean of Medicine, a _gorgeous _friend…

Cameron smiled. "Oh..."

Yes, Chase was _definitely _going to love this.

-o0o-

Picking up the last piece of French fry on the plate, House popped it into his mouth as Wilson talked into his phone, leaning forward while tapping the rim of his drink. He scowled as Wilson chatted on, rolling his eyes and deliberately shifting his cane so it hit the Oncologist on the knee under the table. Wilson shot him a look but went on talking.

"So you'll come by?" Wilson asked. "All right, that sounds good…thank you, yes, he's here. I know. Thank you, again. I'll see you then, Lucas."

Scowling, House waited until Wilson had his phone tucked back into his pocket. "He said he's finishing up a case in New York. The usual, rich husband thinks wife is cheating on him with his assistant, asks for his services."

"Aren't cases supposed to be private?" House asked sarcastically. "On account-a, he's a _private_ eye and all."

"It's not like we know them," Wilson shrugged. "And like we'd tell didn't even mention any names."

"How comforting," House muttered.

"He just thought he'd share, you know, because it is pretty...interesting."

"How?" House decided to humor Wilson.

"Again, husband thinks wife is cheating on him with the help around the office..."

"And it turns out the missus has a gay lover?" House sneered. "The wife is actually gay?"

"No," Wilson said, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. "Turns out the wife _is _cheating on him, but not with the assistant."

House stared, waiting, looking bored.

"She's cheating on him with the son," Wilson said, grinning. "Crazy, isn't it?"

House rolled his eyes. "Boring."

"What?" Wilson drawled out. "Husband's wife cheats with_ teenage_ stepson—how is that boring? It's fit enough for those stupid soap operas you watch everyday!"

"Yeah, means I _have _seen it," House said. "Means it _is _boring since I've seen it _actually _happen, if you know what I mean…"

"What?"

"I saw little boy blue to the gills while mommy dearest wrapped herself around him like the snake in Eden," House said maliciously. "Three times."

"God," Wilson said with disgust. "I don't know how you can watch that crap."

"Yeah, yeah," House said. "Speak for yourself, _El fuego del Amor._"

"I was learning Spanish!" Wilson cried defensively.

Smirking, House grabbed his soda. "Right, of course, _Spanish _for educational purposes, right? That's why you've been diagnosing cancer for Mexican patients."

"Say what you want," Wilson sighed. "I don't care."

"Right," House muttered. "You lose, Mr. _Telanovela_...Did you ever see the finale?"

"No, thanks to you. You're an ass," Wilson muttered, still obviously a little ruffled over House's TiVo erasing stunt.

"And you're a broken record, repeater."

"Real mature," Wilson jabbed then realized something important as he looked down on their plate. "You ate all the fries!"

"You were yakking away on your phone! You snooze, you loose."

"I was on the phone with your P.I. House," Wilson frowned.

"Yeah, and do you realize you took so long that it's lunch time now?" House snickered. "You are such a girl, Wilson."

"His story was interesting," Wilson defended then frowned, shaking his head, wondering why he even bothered, why he let House get to him again. "I'm going to grab something to eat _again_."

"Oh, I'd like some fries and my Reuben too please!" House said with a perfect imitation of a giddy five year old. "Lunch!"

Getting up, Wilson nodded resignedly. There was no point in arguing anyway. House always got what he wanted. "Fine. Anything else?"

"Hm…another drink, I'm fresh out."

"Right," Wilson muttered as he got up. "Oh, look."

House turned to look behind him, just in time to see Cuddy walk in with Nurse Brenda and her assistant. She was laughing along with Brenda while Cody was talking animatedly, waving her arms in front of her. House stared, for a moment, watching as Cuddy threw her head back and laughed freely, her hair slipping from her shoulders to her back.

It had been a while since he had seen her laugh like that and it did not help at all that it was Cuddy version two-point-oh-minus-the-ass and Brenda the Nazi who were responsible. He'd known her at least twenty years and he could swear he had made her laugh like that, once upon a time…

Shaking his head, House smacked himself mentally for the thought. That was a long time ago and things already happened in between—leaving Michigan University and Ann Arbor, working in different parts of the country, Stacy, his infarction, her turning into the Dean of Medicine, his anger, her guilt, his addiction, their opposing wants and needs, Joy—too much had happened already.

He wasn't the same guy who made her laugh when she was seventeen, she wasn't the same girl with the beautiful smile dancing on tables at stupid frat parties at night and participating in lecture halls like a model student by day.

Things had changed, things they didn't bother to acknowledge in any form, and this was how it was supposed to be. He wasn't ever going to be the cause of her laughter and she was never going to turn to him for laughter or anything personal ever again.

That bridge fell apart a long time ago and there was no sign of either side willing to actually repair it.

Shaking himself from his toxic thoughts, House turned away from the group of women and grabbed Wilson's drink. "So? Cerberus taking a break from Hades cleverly disguised as the Clinic. Who cares? Go get me my food, woman!"

"Cerberus?" Wilson raised an eyebrow.

House shook his head. "Honestly Wilson, I wonder about you—Cerberus, the three-headed dog who guarded the gates of Hades? Or would you feel better if I said 'Fluffy' from Harry Potter? Would that be better, Jimmy?"

Wilson rolled his eyes at the patronizing tone. "I know what Cerberus is, House. I was just wondering how you came to call them that."

"Three heads, three extreme-bitch afflicted women, Clinic as Hades, them being the time-keeping little demons—it all fits, _again_, Jimmy, try to keep up."

Wilson looked Cuddy as she fell in line in along with Nurse Brenda and Cody. "Cuddy isn't 'afflicted' with extreme bitch—she isn't. You just piss her off. And Cody is not bad, she's a sweet girl. And Brenda is not a bitch, she just doesn't like you and you piss her off too."

"Whatever," House muttered. "Just get me my food!"

"And don't call me woman," Wilson said as he left.

"I'll won't when you stop acting like one!"

-o0o-

"Good noon, ladies," Wilson said, grabbing a tray as he stood behind Cody in the line.

"Hello, Dr. Wilson," Cody said brightly. This was one doctor she could stand. He was actually nice to her and actually remembered her name. Why he hung out with Greg House was a mystery to her.

Brenda smiled at him before grabbing a fruit cup and placed it on her tray.

"Hello, James," Cuddy said, smiling as she too grabbed a fruit cup, only one with a slightly different batch of fruits. She always picked the ones with peaches and strawberries. "Would you like to join us for lunch?"

Wilson smiled. "Oh, no thanks, I…"

"Have House waiting like a petulant little boy for his lunch," Brenda finished as she moved forward, glancing at their table where she could see House unscrewing the cover of the salt shaker while the sugar shaker was open beside it.

Wilson smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah—er, no, it's for me. He…ate all my food."

Cuddy smirked. "Ate all your food? He's escalating. From what I know he used to just steal some. Be careful Wilson, he'll eat you out of your job."

Wilson shrugged. "It's fine."

"It's House," Cuddy mumbled. "Of course it is."

Excusing himself to the two women, he moved forward to stand beside Cuddy who was making herself a plate of salad, placing beets onto her container along with lettuce. "Lisa, I was just…"

"Its fine," she said, smiling at him briefly before going back to making her lunch. "We both know House, he gets a little…crazy and although it hasn't been proven, craziness gets sort of contagious, like the way he rubs off on you and sometimes, me."

"No, but you were supposed to talk to me and he just," he sighed. "Ruined it. I'm sorry. I know you were working up to saying something important…"

Cuddy shook her head. "No, Wilson, really, it's fine. I'm fine now, it wasn't anything important. I was just a little…out of sorts. I mean, it wasn't even noon yet and work was already driving me crazy. I'm sure you've heard of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson finally deciding to go along with the expansion of the NICU?"

Wilson nodded. "Of course, that's great news. Congratulations."

"Congratulations to all of us," Cuddy smiled, this time putting carrots onto her pile. "I've been meaning to have that wing improved. I love it, I really can't wait to get to work on it."

Wilson smiled. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

Brenda snorted from behind, which she covered with a slight cough. "Sorry."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at the nurse before smiling at the oncologist. "Of course, James, I know you're my guy."

Smiling, Wilson grabbed his plate of French fries and burger and as well as House's Reuben. He looked down at Cuddy's plate of greens and colorful fruits and vegetables. "Is that all you're eating, Dr. Cuddy?"

"I ate quite a lot this morning," she said. "I'm not that hungry, really. This is fine."

Raising an eyebrow, Wilson cocked his head to the side. "Really?"

"Wilson," came a warning tone. "You worry too much."

"Someone has to," he said to her as they moved closer to the cashier. "You barely take care of yourself as it is."

Cuddy sighed, her eyes looking at the cafeteria attendant who was looking away, probably to make her think he wasn't listening. "Wilson, not now."

"He has a point, you know," Brenda said from behind them while Cody listened intently.

"Shut up," Cuddy hissed. "Look, I'm not dying, I'm not rapidly losing weight, I'm not sleep deprived, I'm not remotely sick and apart from being a _little _tired—I'm fine. Thank you for worrying. I'm fine."

"A bit stressed," Brenda offered. "Lately."

Wilson gave her a thankful smile. "There, see?"

"No, I don't," Cuddy said, waving her plastic fork in front of him. "And you won't too if you don't stop with this, Wilson, I mean it. It's sweet, but really, you worry too much."

He saw he was getting her a bit upset so he nodded and raised his hands to indicate surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll drop it. For now. I'm sorry," he said, placing a hand on her arm. "I was coming to apologize about House today and to let you know you can come by whenever."

Cuddy nodded. "No need to apologize, James. Its okay, you're sweet really. Thank you."

Wilson nodded. "Come by later if you still want to talk. I'll tie House to his chair beforehand so you can talk as much as you need."

Cuddy smiled just as she stopped by the cashier who greeted her warmly.

Wilson pulled out his wallet. "I'll get that, Lisa."

From behind Wilson, Brenda raised an eyebrow at Cuddy while Cody snickered silently.

"You don't have to, James," Cuddy said, shaking her head, money already in hand.

"No, no," Wilson said, pulling out enough money to cover both their meals as well as Brenda's and Cody's. "I think this covers all of us, House included."

"No, really, I—" Cuddy began but she was cut off by the other two with their happy chorus of "Thank you, Dr. Wilson!"

Wilson smiled. "I spend half my salary on feeding House, I don't mind paying lunch for three beautiful ladies."

Brenda rolled her eyes while Cuddy shook her head with a smile and Cody blushed.

"Hey Wilson! Hurry up!" House obnoxiously bellowed from his place, waving his cane wildly. "I'm hungry, feed me and stop flirting with your boss and her ladies in waiting!"

Unsurprisingly, the doctors and nurses around ignored the obnoxious man while some interns snuck a glance and the few non-employee diners stared at him then at Wilson.

Cuddy shot House a glare while Brenda led Cody away to a table _far _away from House and Wilson's, the ones in another area with a small partition that was less occupied for now.

"I better go, the native is restless," Wilson mumbled.

"Okay, if he gets out of hand, tell him I'm having _all _his balls handed over to Pediatrics if he doesn't behave," Cuddy said, sparing another glare at House who was grinning at her.

Wilson laughed. "That's actually a good one. I wonder why I never thought of that."

"You're not evil enough," she said, shrugging. "Thanks again, James, I'll try to come by later if I can, depending whether House hands me another lawsuit or not."

Nodding, Wilson watched as she walked off with her tray. He sighed deeply before going back to his table where House was thumping the handle of his cane on their table like an impatient child.

"What were you doing there? Fishing for a foursome? Selfish whore," House sneered as Wilson put his plate down. He scowled at the drink Wilson had brought him. "Water?"

"It's good for you," Wilson said, peeling his hamburger open and putting ketchup in.

"It's boring crap," House complained. "I wanted soda!"

"You didn't say," Wilson said simply.

"I didn't have to! You were too busy trying to suck up to the hyena to focus on _my_ food!"

"You snooze, you lose," Wilson echoed House's words from before. There was a _lot _House hated and having his own crap thrown back at him was one of them. Wilson made sure to use that as much as possible to his own advantage.

House scowled. "Idiot. And did you pay for _all _their food?"

Wilson shrugged, "Even if I pay for everything all three of them eat for a year, it wouldn't cover what I've spent feeding you all these years."

"You're such a suck up."

Wilson shook his head. "Just eat, House."

"Suck up."

"Mooch."

-o0o-

Brenda smiled as she sat down in the booth next to Cody who was beside the wall. "This is a good day. Bless people like James Wilson, lunch angels."

Cuddy chuckled, sitting across from them as she poked at her salad. "He's a born gentleman."

"Too bad he's got House tugging on his arm like a naggy wife," Cody muttered.

Brenda laughed. "Wife…House and Wilson…it fits!"

"Who'll play the wife?" Cody wondered aloud, fork pensively perched on her pouting bottom lip.

"Oh, definitely Wilson," Brenda snorted. "He's more of a man-wife to House than his past three wives ever were to him."

Cody giggled. "I still find that weird, you know."

"What? That Wilson basically lives for House?" Brenda asked sardonically, stabbing a grape from her bowl. "Because, really, you'll get used to it…provided, you stay long enough."

Cody looked at Cuddy who shook her head. "No, I mean, that Dr. Wilson's already had three wives while Dr. House…no, wait, that sounds about right. I mean, the Dr. Wilson part only."

Brenda looked at Cuddy who shrugged. "Well…Wilson has this affliction."

"Like?" Cody asked, leaning forward, her plate of pasta forgotten.

"I mean," Brenda sighed. "He likes to…save people, not just in a doctor way, more like…"

"White knight to damsel in distress," Cuddy said, waving her fork. "Wilson tends to fall for those women who, generally, are in need of a man who takes care of them."

"That sounds…sweet, what happened?" Cody asked. "Did he just…stop saving them?"

Cuddy nodded. "Sort of…he saves them then when they don't need them…"

"He sort of bails," Brenda finished bluntly. The man was nice, sure, but there was no other way to put it. In a way, James Wilson was really just any other guy who liked to be needed, but that didn't make the fact that he moves on faster than the wives anymore easy to accept.

"Bails?" Cody echoed.

"He cheats on them," Cuddy said, stabbing a peach into her fork. "He's a good guy, he is, but…well, when they stop needing him, he just stops coming too. He moves on, looking for someone else to need him and make him feel useful and good."

"So basically he's just an ass in a White Knight's armor?" Cody asked, surprised. She'd always been good with judging character, she wondered if she had figured James Wilson wrong.

"No," Cuddy said firmly. She didn't care about his history, as far as she was concerned it takes two people to make a marriage work and that same two to make it work. "Wilson just likes helping people. Yes, he gets carried away, but he's the type to always mean well and yes, I know cheating doesn't sound…good, but he's not a bad man. He just hasn't found the right woman for him yet."

"Oh, he did," Brenda said. "She died."

"You mean that doctor named Amber?" Cody asked, vaguely remembering one of the nurses telling her about the tragedy that killed Dr. Wilson's girlfriend and almost his best friend.

Cuddy nodded, sadly. She didn't have to ask how the young assistant knew, she was all too well aware of the actively running gossip mills of the hospital. A part of her always felt that gossip was the lifeblood of the institution and that without it all the nurses would either die of boredom of go insane and burn the hospital down. "But I still believe someone's out there for James…he's a good man. Anyone would be lucky to have him."

Brenda nodded. "This is all…pleasant, but it's really depressing the hell out of me. We're in a hospital, I don't think we need more of that. Moving on?"

Cody opened her mouth to ask questions, but Brenda shook her head, waving her fork. "You wanna know more? Go ask the nurses, they know everything there is to know about James Evan Wilson. Those women are insane, especially in Oncology, ask, don't hesitate, they'll tell you."

Cuddy cleared her throat loudly as she stabbed a lettuce easily.

"You," Brenda pointed at her boss with her fork, "Did not hear any of that."

"Dully noted," Cuddy mumbled as she ate.

"Why the sudden fascination with Dr. Wilson anyway?" Brenda asked, raising an eyebrow. "Gearing up to be Mrs. Wilson the fourth?"

Cody blushed. "No, I was just…intrigued by the whole thing between him and Dr. House."

"Ew," Cuddy shuddered. "You seriously don't think House and Wilson are…House and Wilson, right? Seriously…"

Brenda snorted and began to laugh, attracting a few doctors' attention while Cuddy waved almost frantically to make her stop. "Brenda!"

"I'm sorry," the nurse choked out, her cheeks red. "I'm…it's…you gotta admit," she inhaled loudly. "The image of House and Wilson as _House and Wilson _is hilarious!" She burst out laughing again.

Cuddy shook her head at her assistant, grimacing at the image her mind conjured without command. "There is absolutely _nothing _going on between those two except Wilson being a good guy and House being…House. They are friends, nothing more."

"Coulda fooled me," Brenda said through her giggles. "I mean, really."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to her."

Cody nodded. "Okay."

"Wait!" Brenda suddenly jumped, laughter completely gone now as she half stood, half sat on her seat. "Oh my god…"

"What?" Cuddy asked, looking at her friend oddly.

"Is that…" Cody began, looking past Cuddy. craning her neck up to see better.

"Yes, it is," Brenda almost squealed, her eyes shining brightly with glee. "Oh, my, my, my."

"What?" Cuddy asked, frustrated now as she turned to look at what they were both openly gawking at.

She turned, just in time to catch a glimpse of a wavy blonde hair with distinct brown streaks, walking in with a longer and lighter shade of long blonde hair, distinctly female.

Allison Cameron and Nathan Winslow had just walked in the hospital cafeteria together and laughing as if they were old friends.

-o0o-

"Is that Miss Allison Cameron?" Brenda said tauntingly, watching as Cameron talked jubilantly next to the man who was listening with a grin on his face.

"With Mr. Winslow," Cody said, watching. "They seem cozy."

Cuddy turned away, shaking her head. "Maybe they know each other, probably explains why he went here, of all hospitals in the area."

Brenda shook her head as she sat down, "She's _so_ over House."

"She _is _over House," Cuddy mumbled. "She's dating Dr. Chase now, remember?"

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Please, I give them three months."

"They've been dating more than a year," Cuddy pointed out.

"You have not been hearing what I've been hearing," Brenda said, smiling wickedly.

Cody raised an eyebrow. "That Dr. Chase and Dr. Cameron are having problems?"

"They are?" Cuddy asked, surprised. Wasn't it just two days ago she saw them walking out of the hospital, hand in hand, laughing together?

"Mhm," Cody mumbled, pasta in her closed mouth. "I heard the nurses talking."

Cuddy shook her head. "They're always talking and most of the time, they're wrong."

"They weren't wrong about—"

Cuddy raised her hand. "No, thank you. I already know _some _things, I don't need to know the rest, whether they got it right or not."

Brenda shrugged and finished her salad. "Okay. But Chase and Cameron _are _having problems."

"And you think she'll move on _before _they even break up to a man she barely even knows?" Cuddy sputtered. "Really, Brenda, we both know Cameron is better than that."

Brenda looked over at Cameron and Nathan Winslow. "We know her yes, but none of us have _ever _had a man as gorgeous as that walk in this hospital."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You're married."

"I _know_," Brenda muttered. "But I can still _look_ and god, I am looking and I definitely loving…"

"Ew," Cuddy said involuntarily.

Cody laughed. "He _is_ dreamy."

"Lisa, you've seen him," Brenda insisted. "He is _gorgeous_."

Cuddy shook her head and finished her salad and fruit cup. "Get a grip, Brenda, it's just a man."

"When are you suddenly a prude?"

"I am _not _a prude," Cuddy defended. "I just don't…drool at the man like the rest of you like he's a piece of meat."

Brenda shook her head as she stared at Cuddy. "You are weird."

Cuddy shrugged. "He's _not _that good looking, you know."

"Of course he is!" Brenda insisted then turned to the youngest woman in their table. "Cody, tell me I'm wrong. Tell he's not gorgeous."

Cody looked at her boss sheepishly. "He's a bit older than I'd go for, but…he is."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Would you two just finish up? You are driving me crazy."

Brenda smirked triumphantly at Cuddy. "See? You, lady, have your eyes going."

"Do not," Cuddy snapped.

"Excuse me," said an outside voice.

All three women looked up.

Cody was grinning like an idiot while Brenda was watching him critically but not without admiration; Cuddy however, looked at him inquiringly. "Yes, Mr…"

"Winslow," he said, looking perplexed. "_Nathan _Winslow."

"Mr. Winslow," Cuddy said coolly. "How can we help you?"

"I was just wondering if I could join you for lunch?" he asked, smiling.

Brenda looked over to the other table to find Cameron and Chase sitting together closely, talking and eating as they went. "I thought you were with Dr. Cameron. Is she a friendvof yours? If you don't mind me asking..."

"Not at all," Nathan said, looking over his shoulder to the couple. "I just met Dr. Cameron and she was just helping me find the cafeteria, I was getting rather hungry. She and Dr. Chase were meeting for lunch, I didn't want to intrude."

"Oh, well then," Brenda smiled graciously, her mind already plotting a delicious little plan. In her mind, she congratulated herself for being a genius. "Take a seat next to Dr. Cuddy. _Please_."

As much as possible, Brenda avoided Cuddy's murderous glare while Cody finished her pasta.

"Thank you," he smiled, sitting on the empty spot next to Cuddy who as avoiding looking at him as she gracefully finished her food a little faster than normal.

"Oh, wait, look at that," Brenda said in false cheerfulness, her eyes to her watch. "Lunch break over, duty calls. You're done Cody? Oh, good! Dr. Cuddy you finish up. Cody, don't you have that letter for Dr. Tanner?"

"What? No, I'm not—" Cody stammered as Brenda began scooting out of her seat, pulling her along, their plates piled on each other, her meal unfinished by one bite.

"Of course you are, come on," Brenda said, her hand clamped like a vise on the young woman's tiny wrist. "Have a nice lunch, Dr. Cuddy, Mr. Winslow."

And in what seemed like a blur of pastel color scrubs, the nurse and the assistant were gone, leaving Cuddy with the gorgeous distraction that seemed to draw everyone's attention.

With the two gone, sitting next to Nathan Winslow, Lisa Cuddy barely noticed she hadn't been able to say a word as her employees rushed off, leaving her staring after them with a partially open mouth while Nathan Winslow sat next to her, smiling to himself.

Lisa Cuddy vowed to commit murder that day.

Nathan Winslow thanked the flighty nurse silently.

And across the room, James Wilson and Greg House stared, open mouthed, speechless.

Lunch just got a little bit more interesting for the employees of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

And everyone waited with baited breath for what was about to happen next.

-o0o0o0o0o-

Who wants Cuddy and Nathan to talk?

Brenda was definitely the most OOC out of everyone here, I'm sorry. Trying to fix my lines for everyone to fit them right, promise…I could not help it. I hoped this amused you enough though. Cody is getting more scenes that I'd originally planned, I hope no one minds.

House and Wilson sitting a few feet away…what happens? With Chase and Cameron not too far away too…weird, I know.

Anyway, tell me what you think! Would love to hear what you all think!

_Here We Go Again _by _Paramore_

_I was supposed to ask another question, but I forgot...Did I happen to mention I have goldfish memory? Really. Not kidding. It sucks. Anyway, I'll probably remember soon then post it in my next chapter. You guys are awesome for answering and reviewing, thank you so much! Review and I'll post faster, promise._

_Dream of flamed canes and Vicodin,  
xoxOphelia_


	7. Chapter 6: Tiny Little Fractures

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas…will come.

Note: **Thank you so much for the reviews! **_Excuse me as I try to reply as much as possible to your reviews—been feeling guilty that I don't say anything to you guys!_

Lots and lots of reviews…wow. Made me really happy—like, high on 'Shrooms (without stripping like The Jerk!) kind of happy. Review can be addicting, huh?

I'm glad someone likes the song-chapter title thing. And I do love Paramore (_kakashifangrl1012_) Most songs, if not all, are songs I love, love or like. More to come. As for Nathan and who he is…teehee, I hope you don't mind if I keep "teasing" (quote _4Mim_) you guys. And as for blabby Chase&Cameron (_ceciilee_) LOL you'll see! And as for Wilson (_Shikabane-Mai_) he is a sweet guy—he's sticking around due to MY demand. I might have this character that might fit him…maybe, I'm bouncing off ideas around (And me? Evil. Maybe? LOL). And I am so glad you guys like my version of Brenda and I know she's OOC, but I can't picture her anything else—her snippy scenes on the show makes me think her more like Cuddy, which isn't all that good since I want just want one Cuddy…so I wanted to make a friend and someone to help my Cuddy relax…I hope you won't mind too much.

As for some Huddy-love (_HuntingPeace_)…they'll come, but it's going to be one long bumpy road….especially when Elliot comes in…along with my other OC or OCs *_wink-wink_*.

To _yoleah _oh, my, we have something in common. I've crammed too many times already just cause I got caught up in fanfics! It's so worth it! (I'm a bad influence!)

And to _jade27_, _chinababe92_, _bolis86_, _joraco14_, _aserene_ (I heart your username!), _emzypemzy_ and _ccs_—thank you so much for reviewing and saying you like this story and…for being interested in Nathan and Elise. I will try to update asap, I am really excited about this whole story…I am tempted to just blurt out how this goes, but what would be the point in writing? I am literally _itching _to just blurt it out…holding myself back. Seriously.

And to _ang_catalonan_, you're from the Philippines? Hey, me too! So far you're the first Pinay I've encountered, but maybe that's cause I'm just coming out…in a non-gay way and more in a House/Cuddy-internet way. Hello!

I know, I know…this is a bit long, the 'note'_—ducks from possibly flying objects thrown by someone pissy—_ I just wanted to thank you guys. I HOPE I didn't forget anyone! I can be kind of harebrained sometimes.

Anyway, story time!

Chapter Six: Tiny Little Fractures

Nathan turned to stare the woman sitting next to him who was trying hard not to look at him as she finished the last of her salad. He knew her too well, knew her well enough to know that if he stared at her long enough, she would crack. It always annoyed her, being stared at and it was how many fights and misunderstandings were broken and tensions cut short all those years ago.

Deep down, he knew she was still the same girl with those bright grayish-blue eyes that changed colors just as he was still the same boy with the bright green eyes and streaked blonde hair. He loved who she was then and he knew he still loved her, whoever she was now. It didn't matter, just as long as she came back to him, but it lessened the pain he'd felt, missing her, carrying on without her, living without her, to know she was still the same girl, same woman.

Nathan believed she was still his Elise.

"It's not working," Elise—he refused to call her by any other name—said, still not looking at him as she ate, openly ignoring him.

"Really?" he didn't fight the playful grin to appear.

"Really," she said, rolling her eyes. "But please stop, other people are staring. It's…embarrassing. I do not need my own employees watching me like a hawk."

"I'll stop if you talk to me," he said solemnly, the boyish grin slipping from his face. "It's almost Christmas, Elise."

"Stop calling me that," she hissed, turning to look at him, her eyes flashing. "Please, Nathan, _don't _do this. This is _my _life, I don't need you turning it upside down by bringing my old life into this."

"Your old life has your family who misses you and wants you to come home," he pressed, tempted to just grab her and pull her into his car, take her home and convince her to stay.

He could even tie her up. She did it to him once, that means he could do it to her too, right?

_Maybe not. Maybe this story was fit for another...moment._

She would fight, she would scream, kick and bare her teeth. She would hurt, she would do anything to let him let her go again, but he promised he wouldn't, not this time again.

Names didn't matter, what she did didn't matter, how long she's been away didn't matter as long as she came home.

"Everyone misses you, terribly."

Elise scoffed. "Right, I'm sure Barbara the Barbarian has been weeping all these years because she missed me and wants _me _to come home."

"You're not being mature about this," Nathan pointed out gently, remembering quite clearly thirteen-year-old Elise's little nickname for the woman she swore she would never accept. She was never unforgiving until Barbara did what she did best—hurt and Nathan was afraid she might not have gotten it over yet.

And it scared him more to think that maybe she probably never will, which would make this entire thing a failure before it had even begun.

Still, it was worth a try, if it meant getting the chance to bring her back.

"She's…changed, Leese. She's better now, not like before."

The nickname from her childhood flowed easily through his lips and it didn't go unnoticed by her though she ignored it.

"I'm surprised she's still with him," she muttered and didn't bother to deny she was still keeping tabs on her family. She would, it was the way she was after all. There was no way she could ever truly walk away from her own flesh and blood. "And you know what I promised—I am _not _coming back there until _she_ goes away."

"That was two decades ago, Elise!" Nathan said fiercely, keeping his voce low. "Can't you let it go? Please?" He shook his head. "Besides, it's been twenty years, do you really think she's going to leave anytime soon now?"

Eliselooked up, her eyes meeting him coldly. "No and I am _not _letting it go…never."

"Not even for Elliot? He misses you," Nathan said, quietly. "He won't say it, but he wants you to come home, even just this once, for Christmas."

Elise shook her head. "I have a hospital to run."

"He's your brother and he's sick and dying," Nathan said, his tempered controlled. "Damn this hospital to hell. He's your brother."

"I'll visit."

"When, Elise? When he's finally dead?" Nathan managed to add some acid into his words, trying to elicit even just a little reaction from the girl he'd grown up with for seventeen years.

Elise glared at him. "I'd slap you, I would, but I won't. Not in front of my hospital."

"Why do you care so much about this place?" Nathan asked, hiding his disappointment quite well. "Elliot needs _you_."

"If he did, he would have called me himself," Elise whispered. She knew Elliot too well. He was never one to shy away from what he wanted, they were both too much alike not to know each other through and through. She refused to believe he'd changed.

Nathan sighed. "He didn't want to make your life complicated by barging back in. I came for him and _you_. You need to come home."

Elise took a deliberately slow sip of water, her eyes down. With subtle grace, she put her cup back down, swallowing as she stared emotionlessly ahead.

"Elise."

Slowly, with bright eyes that glowed with repressed anger, she turned to him, eyes boring into his eerily as she said, "I _am _home."

-o0o-

"Is that him?" Wilson sputtered, looking at the undeniably good looking man who now sat next to his boss while they appeared to be in a strained conversation.

"Yes," House bit out, staring at the two. He could see _her _and it was apparent, if not to Wilson, but to him that she did not want any part of the conversation the pretty boy moron. He could see the not so subtle hint of anger in her eyes and the tensed set of her shoulders while the idiot sat close next to her, lowering his head to hers, his height, even as he seated, exuded hers greatly.

Underneath the table, Greg House gripped his cane, tempted to use it in so many ways that did not include assisting with his walking.

"Well, you were right," Wilson said, his eyebrows rising. "He _is _something you'd imagine from those Greek myths." He could practically feel the rise in temperature in the room and could also see the women, ones who were not blatantly staring, trying to look inconspicuously at the Dean's table and failing miserably at it.

Wilson, for the record, disliked the man even more.

"Trust you to be the one to admit he imagined Greek _gods _as a boy," House muttered, still staring at the table too far from theirs.

_Why the hell was the damned table to far away?_

He could see the way she shifted, subtly, away from the man as he talked, leaning close to her, invading her space, but like this morning, she didn't seem to notice or be bothered by it.

Her actions and posture contradicted each other, even the emotions shifting and changing on her face. Her eyes, jaw and body language clearly stated she _did not _want the man next to her, but the way she _let _him get close to her, let him _into _her space said he wasn't bothering her as much as one had initially observe.

House gripped his cane tighter, his pile of fries long forgotten, and his Reuben worth a few more bites left cold on his plate.

"She looks upset," Wilson pointed out.

"She's pissed," House translated.

"Do you think we should help her out?" Wilson asked, his knight in shining armor self ready to saddle up with his noble steed, ready to rescue his boss…if House would let him.

House didn't say anything as he watched them. She finished her food and he applauded her for not letting the too-made-up pretty boy distract her from eating. His eyes glanced around the room, hesitantly, not wanting to take his eyes off them. He saw the women around—nurses, doctors and visitors—all of them seemingly drawn to the man.

_Pathetic_, his mind spat viciously. Wave them a man looking more made up than a gay man on a runway and they loll out their tongues like dogs in heat.

Fleetingly, as his eyes pushed to wander back to the table near the back, his mind registered Allison Cameron's blonde hooker hair.

He backtracked and realized that other than Cuddy, his former fellow didn't seem to be affected by the stranger. It would have intrigued him, just like it intrigued him that Lisa Cuddy, desperate-mama-wannabe-and-frustrated-sex-kitten was _not _affected too, but he saw the man across the blonde, smiling.

The equally blonde Robert Chase, another former fellow whom he fired, was grinning like an idiot while talking to his girlfriend. Of course Allison Cameron would not be affected by the pretty boy walk-in—she had her own and seemed to be fine with it.

Maybe sex in the janitor's closet did help.

Rolling his eyes, House went back to the cou—_not_ calling them the 'C' word!—the two_strangers_sitting by the wall. The man was leaning closer now, talking to her as she stared straight ahead, her hand just leaving her cup on the table.

House saw just in time as she turned slowly to face him, her eyes ablaze with both coldness and heat, making them a dark shade of storm blue that even from the distance was visible to House. She spoke to him, making House hate that he could not lip read.

He didn't know what she said, but he could see from her expression she was angry and the man leaned back, away from her. She hadn't said much, but he could see it did the job quite well.

_Atta girl._

The animosity she showed him was clear, erasing all contradictions his mind listed, since now she was obviously pushing the man away from her.

House could have sworn he heard hisses coming from various tables that women occupied, seeing the raven haired beauty hurt the beautiful myth-like man enough to make him stumble.

"She's _really _pissed," Wilson muttered, realizing that maybe Lisa Cuddy could take care of herself after all. The man was leaning away, away from her and her stabbing eyes, obviously stung.

"She's telling him to take a hike," House said, grinning, his grip on his cane loosening. "Go Cuddles, _that's_ my girl."

-o0o-

Eyebrows rising once more, James Wilson stared at his friend, the last sentence echoing in his mind over and over. He was speechless, almost, after hearing House say those words with such veiled but true affection, a grin forming on his previously scowling mouth, his blue eyes brighter and clearer than normal and the delivery of his words with no hint of mockery or sarcasm.

In one true moment, House let his guard slide down and as tempted as Wilson was, he kept silent. A moment like that with the bastardly genius was rarest of the rarest forms, it was best not to ruin it with stuttering shock or mocking jabs.

"Come on, Jimmy," House said, almost cheerfully. "A table for four just opened."

Grabbing his cane and walking away, further into the cafeteria, Wilson followed his best friend as he led the way to the table that everyone seemed intent to ogle at.

Wilson would let House handle this one, promising he would only intervene should his friend provoke the stranger into taking a swing, as he expected he would, or if Lisa Cuddy herself let loose her control and take on the crippled doctor in a fit of rage—the repressed rage he saw were veiled in her eyes—which was not unheard of if she was facing the said cripple.

He could see the wheels turning in the diagnostician's mind, his eyes locked on the table of the unaware occupants who were seemingly stuck in a stand-off with their eyes. He could imagine the insults House would throw, hoping against hope it would be at the man rather than the obviously irritated woman.

His noble steed tucked away with his armor, Wilson wondered cheesily if this was Greg House in rusty armor, horse-less, but armed with a cane and a bottle of Vicodin.

Nearing the table, Wilson thought, probably not.

This was just House being House and if Wilson was lucky, no one was getting punched today.

-o0o-

"Look at that."

Robert Chase turned, watching as his former boss stood up with his cane, along with his best friend. He'd just heard the tale of the handsome man from the ER whom, thanks to Nurse Ellen, he'd been informed was about to snatch his girlfriend away.

He'd heard her side, never believing the chatty little nurse in the first place, but had been interested enough who the man was and why she was suddenly meeting Chase with him in the cafeteria. After hearing the story, finding out Nathan Winslow was a 'friend' of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, he'd been interested for another reason.

He would never admit it, he was a man after all, but Chase did enjoy a good gossip or two.

Especially if it was about a handsome man and his boss who, he had been almost sure, was about to start something with his former boss, only to be proven wrong when the said former boss dragged in a cohort of his for a prank a few days ago, seeing how comfortable he had been with the blonde aspiring actress, Robert Chase pushed the thought of Greg House having feelings for Lisa Cuddy aside.

The blonde was obviously _well acquainted _with House and he seemed comfortable enough to be openly _almost _nice-nice and be one-hundred percent flirty with her.

It was then Chase backtracked with his thoughts realizing it was laughable, House having any feelings other than lust for Cuddy, despite the signs that seemed almost real, from the years Chase worked under the man before to the now. But he'd been proven wrong by the startlingly curvaceous blonde. He'd been wrong; it was time to move on. Cuddy with Nathan Winslow seemed a good place to start again on.

Chase was happy with Allison Cameron, why couldn't his beautiful and attractive boss, Lisa Cuddy, find something like that with a man? Chase felt she more than deserved it, especially after recent events that had obviously shaken the Administrator.

_God, if House could hear him, _'Why, _Cameron_, did you cut your hair _really _short today?'

Shaking his thoughts from his former boss and current boss, Chase decided they had their lives, he had his and it was with the beautiful blonde in front of him. As long as she was next to, beside or in front of him, a breath's kiss away, his world was just fine.

"You think he'll barge in on them?" Chase asked, grinning. He didn't think, he _knew_.

"Definitely," Cameron said, nodding. "You know how he gets with guys around Cuddy."

Chase rolled his eyes. "He just likes annoying her to death."

"He likes chasing guys away from her," she pointed out.

"No, he likes to play with people's minds," Chase said. "If he wasn't so damned good at his job, she'd have fired him a long time ago. She's sacrificing herself for this hospital by allowing him to torture her and play with her."

"Chase."

"It's true."

"He's looking out for her," she almost whispered.

"He's Greg House, he doesn't look out for anyone but himself."

"They're friends, friends look out for each other," she said, her eyes lit up with passion for the argument. Chase was well aware his girlfriend was no longer in love with their former boss, but she still clung on to the thread that maybe he was human, that he could feel and was capable of _not _ending up alone and actually caring about another human being.

The closest Chase had ever seen him truly care was with a rat, his former _married _lover who he chased away—after an obvious and brief affair—and then his best friend whose girlfriend got killed while on the bus with _him_, although Chase wondered if that should even count, since all he'd done to James Wilson as he tried to cope with grief was insult him, manipulate him and taunt him. It was House's own sick brand of caring, Chase wasn't sure if it counted as caring at all.

"Not if your friend is House," Chase muttered. "All he wants is your lunch money and a gullible little mind to play with." He shrugged. "And whoever said they're friends? She may be his friend, but he's not anything near a friend to her."

"From what I remember, he used to play with _your _gullible little mind," came the retort with that scowl that turned her thin lips into light pink lines.

"And look where it got me," he pointed to his chest. "Nowhere except out."

She frowned. "He was a good mentor."

"He is," he nodded. "But he is also an ass."

Cameron watched House walk closer to the table, Wilson lagging behind. "He's not just an ass. He obviously cares about Cuddy."

"Yeah, as much as he cares about that 'actress' he hired," he smirked. She was definitely _not_ just an actress. House was a bastard, but he knew how to pick 'em—paid for or not.

"Chase…"

"He doesn't," Chase insisted. "And good for Cuddy—she doesn't need a guy like him. He'd only pick on her and keep pushing her buttons more."

She was tempted to fight him on it, tell him and drum it into his thick Australian head that House was human, that he was just as capable as anyone to care and love and cherish other people. Of course, Chase would not relent, would use Stacy Warner to his defense, the old girlfriend/lover who left House and married someone else. She would use the fact that House saved her husband's life, point out he cared, then he would say he didn't care, but only wanted to solve a puzzle and sleep with her again.

They'd gone through the argument too many times already, Cameron was starting to find it dull and pointless, ready to accept her boyfriend was really not just as forgiving as her.

_Duh._

Chase might have practically worshiped and obviously fear the man, but his opinion of him both as a human being and as a doctor was two different things. Chase wasn't angry; he was just honest about the reality that was Greg House.

To his defense, he only wanted his girlfriend to realize that and come to terms with the fact that not everyone was as well adjusted as she wanted so much to think.

"He's House. The only one he'll ever care about is himself," Chase muttered. "And love? Yeah, right. He doesn't even love himself, let alone another person or _Cuddy_."

Cameron sighed and went back to eating, readying herself for another round in the ER, argument dropped and rolling away from them again. Till next time.

-o0o-

"Dr. Cuddy! There you are!" was the obnoxious shout that broke the stare Nathan had locked into with Elise, his face warring with emotions that ranged from shock to pain to incredulity while hers held the same dispassionate stare she gave that was bordering on coldness that could have beaten out the Alaskan winter.

Looking up as he recognized the voice, he tore his gaze away from the eyes that held an undeniable coldness he had never been subjected to and saw the same limping man from her office that morning. Briefly, he wondered who this man was and why he always seemed to appear at every turn, asking for her.

"Sorry, you were so far back here, we barely saw you!" the limp doctor said as he practically pushed another male into the seat, sliding him in front of Elise while he sat down with a plop, facing Nathan with a glint in his eyes.

"Dr. Wilson, Dr. House," Elise said, nodding at them.

"You finished eating?" the Dr. House character asked, nodding at her food. "Because Dr. Wilson here just reminded me that _we_ have a board meeting," he grinned at Nathan. "Life of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, meeting here, meeting there—she needs to chalk up sex as a meeting on her planner, it's ridiculous!" He shrugged. "Then again, at least I'm getting some, right?"

Nathan turned to Elise who looked quite unaffected. He wondered who this brash character was and how he was managing to escape with the things he was saying. Surely, this was not how an employee should talk to his employer.

"Mr. Winslow," Elise said, ignoring the grinning man as she gestured to the one in front of her. "This is Dr. James Wilson, my head of Oncology. Dr. Wilson, this is Mr. Nathan Winslow…his brother isn't well, I referred him to you."

Dr. Wilson looked at him, assessing him with unreadable eyes, watching him for some reason. Nathan chalked it up to the man being cautious and observant. "Dr. Wilson, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," he reached across the table to shake hands. "Your brother?"

Nathan's eyes drifted to Elise who was seemingly locked in a staring contest with the other doctor, her eyes murderous while his looked playful, his hand twirling his cane, precariously swinging in Nathan's direction as it twirled. "Yes, my brother," he said, solemnly. "Lung cancer, his doctor informed us recently he's moved on to stage four…"

He saw the shift in the Oncologist's eyes. "That means…"

"It's too late," Nathan said with a slight nod, glancing at Elise whose eyes had shifted on to him. "The doctors in New York gave him six months, a year if we're lucky enough. Although, you already know, Dr. Wilson, those six months makes us lucky enough."

Dr. Wilson nodded. "I'm sorry."

Nathan nodded. "I thought coming down here would help—we did think about moving here to Princeton so at the same time we can run our business, but…my brother said no. He's…accepted his fate, he's okay with it now."

"How can he?"

The three men looked at Elise who had uttered the question so quietly it almost didn't reach all of them.

"Lisa, are you okay?" Dr. Wilson asked, concern evident in his voice, leaning towards her.

Elise kept her head down, staring at her hands in her lap. "How could he be okay with that? He's…so young. So…"

Nathan noticed Dr. Wilson look at Dr. House who was staring at Elise, concentration and focus solely on her as she refused to look at anyone. She shrugged her hair, letting it fall down like a curtain but it barely covered her face, as if she'd felt Dr. House's intense stare.

"He's accepted everything," Nathan said, softly. He was tempted to touch her, reach for her hand or even hold her, knowing the turmoil she was going through upon hearing what he'd said.

Guilt that had already been there before he even walked through the hospital doors began to grow more, knowing this information was hurting her and in a way, _he _was hurting her. His guilt almost made him give up, knowing she would never forgive him.

But it had to be done, he told himself for the thousandth time, _this _had to be done.

He knew she would never forgive herself and he'd rather have her be angry at him for the rest of their lives that have her be angry with herself. He didn't want her drowning herself with guilt.

_This has to be done._

She shook her head. "Accepting death? That's…stupid."

"He's known for a while," Nathan said before he could stop himself. "He just…didn't tell us sooner. He was determined to do things on his own and tried to hide it from us. He hired the best doctors and went through the treatments. He kept everything, made his doctors sign papers barring them from even mentioning he was a patient."

Elise looked up, surprising him that her eyes were clear of tears or of any emotion. He'd her to look angry or upset or sad, but she was void of emotions, staring at him with clear grayish-blue eyes, the coldness she'd parted on him gone. "He hid it from you?"

"He didn't want anyone to know," he admitted. "He didn't want to put anyone through what he felt was unnecessary troubles."

Instantly, he saw anger flash through her eyes. "Then he is an idiot."

"Dr. Cuddy," Dr. Wilson said, eyes wide, voice carrying his shock clearly.

Elise looked up, surprised, obviously she'd forgotten they were there.

Nathan saw the Oncologist sputtering with shock while he could see smugness on the limp doctor's face, clearly amused.

"Dr. Cuddy is _right_, Dr. Wilson," Dr. House said, looking at Elise. "Your brother is an idiot," he said, his eyes on Elise, but the words were obviously for Nathan. "He didn't want to trouble you, no, _that's_ a _lie_. He wanted to keep it secret because, maybe, he didn't want to look weak, if not that, then he's simply just another powerful joe with control issues, thinking if he kept it quiet and held on tight to the reins, his control would be enough to stop the disease from killing him."

Intense blue eyes fell on Nathan and he shrugged. "Or, I could be wrong. Hell, I don't even know the guy, I'm just a smart ass guessing."

Nathan stared at the man. How could he asses so much from so little? He couldn't possible _know _that. He didn't even know the man, how could he know? Nathan was intrigued. Maybe Elise did have reason to keep the man, _maybe_. "Who knows?" was all Nathan could muster.

He smirked and Nathan could see the wheels turning in the strange man's head, as if he was figuring something out, as if he knew something he didn't.

"So, you're from New York," came Dr. Wilson's insert. "If you don't mind me asking, what hospital did you brother go to?"

"Yes, he went with Atherton Memorial," Nathan answered. "My family is good friends with the Athertons and, maybe you know him, Dr. William Lang is his attending."

Dr. Wilson's eyes widened. "Dr. Billy Lang? _The _Dr. Billy Lang?"

Nathan nodded. "Yes, Billy. He transferred from New York General to Atherton two years ago. You do know him?"

The Oncologist nodded. "Of course! Dr. Lang is one of the best in our field. He was my mentor in McGill. I was not aware he left New York General already."

"Stan Atherton, the Chief of Medicine right now, tried for years to get Billy," Nathan admitted. "Which is good, Dr. Lang really helped Elliot."

"Your brother?"

Nathan nodded again.

"You have the best. I'd trust Dr. Lang implicitly, he's an astounding man," Wilson said, smiling encouragingly. "He'd do everything for your brother."

"He already has," Nathan said solemnly. "We haven't talked about it yet, but I do think staying in Princeton for a while might help Ellie. Living in New York is a bit much at the moment."

Dr. Wilson nodded understandingly. "Of course."

"We have an excellent Oncology wing," Elise said, softly. "You can bring him here, if need be."

She was asking him. He fought the urge to confess, save her the pain and then inevitably cause her more pain and anguish. Nathan knew he was stuck.

"Thank you," Nathan said to Dr. Wilson then to Elise. "Nothing is definite yet, but we'd like to make…certain arrangements."

"Christmas is coming," Dr. Wilson mentioned. "Will you be spending it there?"

Nathan placed his forearms on the table. "We don't know yet, right now, we're doing everything we can for Elliot. All we want is for him to enjoy life and we'd give him everything we can, to make him happy." He smiled, sadly. "He's always loved Christmas in New York. This year, we're hoping to make it…special."

"Excuse me," Elise suddenly said though she interrupted politely. "It's past my break and I have a lot to do." She looked at Nathan. "Mr. Winslow, Dr. Wilson is an excellent doctor, should you need anything you can call on him. Princeton Plainsboro is open to you, and your family."

Dr. House snorted, "Dr. Cuddy is _open _too, Mr. Winslow."

Elise ignored him and his double entendre. "If you'd like to make arrangements, Dr. Wilson has my permission to do everything for you to the best of our hospital's abilities."

Nathan nodded. "Thank you."

"I have to go now," she moved a little forward to make him move and he did so. "Dr. Wilson," she called, standing up and turning to the men on the table. "If you'd be so kind, can you show Mr. Winslow around and maybe bring him up to the Oncology wing?"

"That's not really necessary," Nathan said, surprised. "I'm sure Dr. Wilson is…busy."

"It's fine," Dr. Wilson said then it was followed by a thud and Nathan looked down to see Dr. House's cane had disappeared.

Elise smiled before starting to leave. "Good day, gentlemen."

"Dr. Cuddy!"

Elise stopped, just in time to see Dr. House standing as well. "Dr. Wilson can take care of Mr. Winslow. I'd like to have a 'meeting' in your office right now. It's…important."

He made a show of glancing down suggestively at his pants, swinging his cane.

"I'm sorry, Dr. House, I…"

"Great, let's go!" Dr. House said and began to limp away, hooking his cane on her elbow and dragged her along while she protested weakly.

Off with the doctor, Nathan turned to Dr. Wilson with a surprised look, but the doctor just shook his head. "Dr. House is…special, in a way. They're always like that."

Watching after Elise, Nathan suppressed a sigh. "Oh."

Starting with the tour, Nathan followed off with the pleasant Oncologist, wondering just how the hell Greg House managed to steal away Elise once more.

The man was going to be difficult, leaving Nathan to silently worry as Dr. James Wilson began to discuss and question him about Elliot.

It hadn't been planned, Nathan wondered what made him say they were moving to Princeton.

_Now what?_

He was in trouble now.

Looking up to find Dr. Wilson walking a little ahead, he realized he hadn't eaten lunch yet.

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes?"

"I just realized…" Nathan managed to look apologetic. "I made plans today with some associates in the city around three. I think I'll have to call this a raincheck…"

Dr. Wilson nodded, smiling. "Okay, that's fine. I have a brother in New York. It gets kind of busy going in and out of there."

Nathan sighed. "Yes, it's…tiring at times."

"If you want, you can contact me through the hospital, anytime," Dr. Wilson said, handing him a card. "We can make arrangements, if you'll need them."

Nathan took the card, nodding. "Thank you." He checked his watch. "Oh, I must go. I need to make sure I eat first. I'm not exactly meeting with pleasant company."

Dr. Wilson's eyebrows knitted. "Pardon?"

"Associates are sharks," Nathan said with a shrug. "Sometimes. They tend to ruin one's appetite."

Dr. Wilson grinned. "Right, okay."

"I'll be back, hopefully," Nathan said as he headed out of the cafeteria. "Thank you again, Dr. Wilson. Please tell Dr. Cuddy it was nice to see her."

Dr. Wilson nodded. "I will."

Leaving the Oncologist in the cafeteria, Nathan pulled out his cell phone, shaking his head as he slipped the calling card in his pocket. He waited for the other line to pick up. "It's me." He sighed deeply. "We have a problem."

-o0o-

Did I take longer to update? Sorry, and I'm sorry this isn't as good as you probably anticipated. Next up...maybe we'll find out if House did chase after Dr. Cuddy. Who wants that? I know I do. Will see on next update!

And then Nathan…I don't know, still working my head around. Sort of a sneaky little devil, isn't he? And PI Lucas will be making his debut…soon.

I hope nobody minds Chameron around. And let me know if you want the ducklings version 2 to make an appearance. I can probably shove a case down House's throat (as I had originally planned) in this fic, you know, to distract him while Elise/Lisa tries to make some very…big decisions.

Oh, by the way! Who among you guys liked _Sela Ward _(Stacy Warner)? Because I know I did, when she appeared on House. I liked Sela, but Stacy's story got a bit murky, huh? I actually liked her (Stacy, not Sela since I can seperate my likes/dislikes between actor and character) until…you know, she slept with House while she was still married to Mark then the rest of the downhill crap? Too bad. She was a good character. Doesn't mean I ship Hacy (is this right?) though. I love my Huddy, thank you very much.

Anyway, why am I talking about the Southern Belle who played Mrs. Warner? I was in a bookshop today, the ones where they sell secondhand and old books. I love that shop—anyway, I was skimming today and I found her memoir! _Homesick_ and it talks about coming home, her life and family and stuff. It was like worth 40 pesos which would make it less than one dollar, I think, so I bought it. I'm reading it right now and I must admit, I am pleasantly enjoying it. Beautifully written and it gives me a well-written, well-told and thoughtful glimpse into the life of a woman from the South. Anybody else can relate?

Of course, I still love Lisa Edelstein more…and her colorful history. I'm still reading up on the Club Kids which, I must admit, fascinates me. Lisa E was awesome though I love Lisa Edelstein more! Does that make sense? Don't think so...oh well.

**Oh, and CONGRATULATIONS to HOUSE, MD and HUGH LAURIE for kicking some formerMcDreamy ass on the 2009 People's Choice awards! **_Who did not like his speech? I know I did! I love his speeches...who remembers the one from the Golden Globes? 172 names? major LOL_

_And Lisa looked beautiful, right? (as always!) It's gotta be a crime to look _that _good._

_Tiny Little Fractures _by _Snow Patrol_

_EDIT: I'm sorry. I edited the use of 'Cuddy' on this chapter and wrote in 'Elise'. I thought it was more fitting since I was using more of Nathan's POV and to him, she _is_ Elise just like when I used 'Dr. Cuddy' on Cody's POV....I wonder though, if this is wrong. Can anyone tell me? Let me know if it is or if it is too messy/confusing. Willing to edit it out. Don't have a beta..._


	8. Chapter 7: Remember to Forget

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas…will come.

Note:_ Dear gawd! Seriously, I just looked at my last update and…daymn! Now that was one long a/n! Sorry for those who minded, I'll try not to get carried away next time._

As always, **thank you everyone for your reviews**. You know I love 'em! Please, keep them coming, I'm here…all the time? Teehee…but seriously, I jump in my seat every time I see notifications in my mail that I HAVE REVIEWS and as well as 'alert' notifications. Thank you too, for those who added me to their lists—you can drop by and review, your thoughts, whatever they may be, would delight me. You don't have to, seeing people reading this is enough, but you know…I'm needy that way. LOL Kidding.

But wait, here's another a/n:

I finished reading _Homesick_ in two days and I am almost ashamed to admit I cried at the end! The whole thing with Sela Ward's mother was so sad, but so beautiful at the same time. If I should die, I'd like to die like her mother did; surrounded by the people I cherish and love.

Man, ya'll should read that book…for a good cry, some laughs and to be reminded the meaning and importance of home. Beautifully written, I could not put it down.

Chapter Seven: I Forgot to Remember to Forget

Stalking after the woman with his limping gait, House let out a few strings of curses silently as he followed her through the halls and lobby, into his personal hell called the Clinic then to the doors that led to her office. "Cuddy!"

She stopped, as if she'd forgotten they'd left together. He had dragged her out, but when she managed to unhook herself free from his cane, she stormed off silently, her strides as wide apart as her skirt would allow her and as fast as her heels let her with their familiar 'click-clack'.

"Yes, Dr. House?" she said, turning to him, looking quite worn down.

"We have a meeting," he said, leering at her as he wagged his eyebrows.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Please, House, leave me alone. I do have things to do today."

"But Dr. Cuddy, I bailed you _twice _today!" he whined and thumped his cane. "I say that should be enough for my weekly-nice-thing quota." He shuddered as if traumatized. "I should deserve some…delights, right? After all, you just robbed Wilson of me and my goodness."

Apparently not in the mood to dance with him today, Cuddy shook her head and went in to the first part of her office where both Cody and Brenda were waiting, chatting as the nurse stood with a chart, reading, while Cody was in front of her computer once more.

"Dr. Cuddy," Brenda said, smiling. "You're back so soon?" The teasing tone in her voice was hard to miss along with that twinkle in her eyes.

"Not now," was the muttered answer as the Diagnostician followed her in. "Don't let him in."

With that one command, Brenda tucked her chart in and jumped in front of the wood and glass doors just as they shut silently, followed by a cool metallic click signaling that a lock had slid into place followed by the sudden appearance of the chic expensive shades, blocking everyone in from seeing inside. "Dr. House."

"Cerberus," House smirked, stopping in front of her. "Dr. Cuddy give you a raise? How much does nurse slash security guard go for now?"

"Not nearly enough," she said sweetly. "If you're the one needed to be kept out."

"Maybe you should quit then," he smiled. "I hear Coyote Ugly just opened a few blocks down. They like their girls well endowed," he smirked at her chest. "But I'm sure they'll hire you as a waitress or a bus girl. You sort of have the ass for it."

"Sorry," Brenda said. "I'm more of a Gentlemen's Club kind of girl."

"Hot."

"I know. You're still not getting in."

House raised his cane and tucked it into his arm, mimicking her pose with his legs a few feet apart, right arm tucked with an item trapped to the side and the left arm bent akimbo. "Stick beats paper, any day."

Brenda smirked. "Security beats cripple doctors _everyday_."

"The evil witch always dies in the end."

"Evil bastards always get their asses kicked."

House smirked. "Dr. Cuddy always lets me in."

"Not today."

"Really?" he asked, grinning. "What if I…"

With a sudden swoop, a blur of brow flowing by swiftly, the chart fell from Brenda's arm, spilling papers everywhere, but while House predicted the nurse to react to give him time to slip past her, she didn't. Instead, she stood there, looking triumphant.

"Oops," he exaggerated, looking innocent with the tips of his fingers over his mouth.

"Oops," she mocked, grinning. "That's okay, Dr. House. Those papers were your department's requisition forms for the vacation schedules you passed yesterday."

House's pretense dropped as he frowned.

"Might take a while," Brenda said, shrugging. "To put those in order again, sorry Cody," she pouted at the girl on the table who was watching with a happy smile. "It might hold back that little getaway you planned on Christmas Eve, Dr. House. Cody might not be able to pass in your request for that, along with your team's requests."

Glancing down on the papers, House could see the visible and distinct scrawl of Eric Foreman's too neat handwriting on Greg House's request for leave on Christmas Eve and the following three days after. Glaring at the nurse, he realized he'd been set up.

"Oops," she said again, her hand over her mouth.

House glared. This was getting old too fast. "Either step aside or we'll be fencing around here. Me and my cane, you and a pencil…"

Rolling her eyes, Brenda turned to Cody. "Get security."

"You're no fun," he groused. "Careful, Cerberus, if you keep this up, you'll be stuck in Hades forever and ever and ever and ever."

Before Brenda could reply with a witty insult, the glass doors House came through opened once more. Cody smiled politely, "Hello, Dr. Kutner."

Growling lightly, House turned to see a wide-eyed Lawrence Kutner standing with a folder in hand. "We've…got a case, sir…"

"No, we don't."

"Yes, you do."

House turned to see Cuddy standing by her door, one side open, cell phone in hand. "They just informed me. You have a case." She looked at Kutner. "Brief him."

"I'd rather you brief me," House told her, turning his back on his fellow to face her. "Or, better, un-brief me, Dr. Cuddy, although I'm more of a boxers guy…"

"Like anyone cares," Brenda muttered.

"Get to work, House," Cuddy rolled her eyes and went back into her office, locking it loudly.

House turned to Kutner. "How'd we get this case?"

"Emergency Room, Dr. Cameron sent it," the fellow answered, more confident he wasn't losing his head or his job today. "Thirty-four year old woman brought into the ER by her boyfriend."

"Classic signs of idiot girlfriend and clueless boyfriend," House cut him off. "How in the world did you nitwits think this would interest me in any way possible? Explain."

"He found her in her bedroom, blood all over the place," Kutner handed him the folder. "She was unconscious so he brought her in when she wouldn't wake up. He thought she was dead until he felt for a pulse."

House raised an eyebrow. "So he knows how to spot the undead, why am I listening to you?"

Kutner went on, "He took her to the ER, they found out she cut herself shaving and clipped a blood vessel—"

House raised his cane. "She _cut _herself _shaving_?"

"They had a date. She was in a hurry and slipped then passed out."

House rolled his eyes. "Not taking this case. She's an idiot."

Kutner shook his head. "ER gave her some blood, but when Dr. Cameron checked her again, she noticed some of her joints were sore."

"What does she do? Like, for a living?"

"She's a dancer," Kutner said, grinning.

"What type?" House didn't bother jumping until he knew there was something to jump about.

Kutner shrugged. "She teaches ballet and jazz to kids. That's her job. She owns a dance studio."

House shrugged. "Whatever. If she worked the pole then she'd be worth talking about. Ballet is for sissies and Wilson."

"Dr. Wilson likes ballet?" Kutner asked with a smirk.

"Oops," House said sarcastically with wide eyes.

The younger doctor nodded, smirking. "Yeah. Oops."

"Family history?"

"She's adopted," Kutner said. "Her adoptive parents died two years ago, no siblings, and no records of biological parents."

House rolled his eyes. "Typical. What else?"

"She's felt the soreness since yesterday, but she chalked it up to dancing too much."

"Smart, isn't she?" House muttered as he grabbed the folder. "Says here Dr. Cameron put her through some tests—all of them concluding she was suffering more joint pains."

Kutner nodded. "Enough to have her admitted."

"And no dancer can dance with un-oiled hinges, right?" House muttered.

"Shouldn't you be in your office by now?" Brenda groused, lightly toeing the papers still scattered over the floor.

Noticing his name, Kutner bent down to pick it up, "Hey! This is _my _request for a vacation!"

"Blame her," House nodded at Brenda. "She had a tantrum."

Kutner stared at the nurse who shook her head, "He did it."

Deciding it didn't matter who did what, Kutner bent down to put the papers in order, keeping his boss's name on top. "Here you go, Miss Cody," he said politely to be pretty assistant.

"Thank you, Dr. Kutner," she said with a smile as she put the papers back on her desk. "Here you go, Bren," she handed a small batch of papers to Brenda who smiled at House.

"Patient with a cold," Brenda said to House. "Needed to keep this file safe, you know, from flailing canes and all? You never know what might happen."

Smirking, the nurse walked out, waving to the assistant as she went. Brenda took her place in the nurses' station with the others who were once more gathered in clumps, most probably talking about the latest dish on what happened in the cafeteria.

House scowled at the nurse as he tossed the patient file back to his fellow. "Let's go."

"Good day, Dr. House," chirped Cody as she left, smiling as Kutner looked back with a grin.

Both gave distinct impressions of two little kids, one staying behind while the other had to go home with daddy, waving feebly with a slight promise of another play date, someday.

-o0o-

House slipped out into the Clinic, behind him Kutner following closely, humming something under his breath. Upon passing the nurses' station and ignoring Brenda, he spotted Chase.

"Hey Wombat," House called.

Chase turned to him with an unamused frown. "House."

House noted the clumps of nurses, one of them, a redhead, giggling. "Lunch time gossip?"

"A complimentary to go with my Clinic hours," Chase grinned. "Apparently, you're at the center of it all, again. Why am I not surprised?"

House smirked. "Can't help it if I'm famous, right?"

The Australian shook his head, "They want to know about you and Dr. Cuddy's friend in the cafeteria. Everyone thinks you're swapping best friends using him and Wilson."

"What friend?" House asked, eyebrows raised.

"The one you were sitting with," Chase said, bemused. "The suit with you and Wilson and Cuddy at lunch—he said he's a friend of Cuddy's."

House frowned. "He said? You _know _him?"

Chase shrugged, "Made friends with Cameron and told her he knew Cuddy."

"It's always the pretty blonde ones," House muttered. "You," House turned to Kutner. "Go up and tell the rest of the motley crew I want four separate diagnoses on this woman when I get up there."

"You're not coming up?" Kutner asked.

"I didn't get my lunch time kiss from Cuddy," House said as he turned back towards Cuddy's office. "I get cranky when I'm cheated."

"You," House turned to Chase. "Reign in your blondie. She's yours for the keeps, you really want a rich moron in a suit coming after her?"

Chase stared at House, shocked that the Diagnostician was actually telling him to hold on to his girlfriend. Even though it was intended as a jab, Chase felt comforted that House was obviously still uninterested in his Allison.

Without another word to his current and former fellows, House trudged back into the office he'd been kept out of, only this time he was going to make sure he got in.

Cuddy may not know it yet, but even the locksmith of her beloved hospital was bribable with an easy fifty plus half a Reuben from the cafeteria.

-o0o-

"Dr. House you're not suppose to—"

House ignored the little assistant as he slipped his key into the lock and pushed the office doors open, expecting to find his boss bent over her desk as always only to find her lying on her couch, expensive high heels propped up one arm while her head lay flat on the cushions.

Slamming the glass doors to drown out the assistant's protests, House locked it behind him and waited for a reaction. He didn't have to wait long.

"Get out," was the order as she lay unmoving, her left forearm draped over her closed eyes while her other arm hung on the side of the couch, the painted tips of her finger nails lightly grazing the carpeted floor underneath.

"I would, but I need to be here," he said, watching her. "Material like this, rarely seen, needs to be cataloged. How do I know if I'll ever this again? This pose will do wonders for me in the shower."

He wasn't lying.

Cuddy sighed loudly. "Please, House, just once…do your job, don't bother me and don't add more to my building migraine."

"You said you didn't know him."

"Who?"

He rolled his eyes. "That guy with a cancer brother."

"I don't," she said, still unmoving.

"He told Chase and Cameron he's a friend of yours," he said darkly. "Now why would you lie about that?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe he's just saying that so he can stick around?" Cuddy asked, her forearm slipping away from her and she got up, feet planting themselves back to the floor. She straightened her skirt immediately, not willing to give him a peek at her thighs where the skirt had ridden up.

"Why should he?" House asked, tapping his cane lightly. "His brother is in Atherton under Lang. He doesn't need Wilson."

"He will if he moves here," Cuddy pointed out, straightening her purple silk top. "Wilson is the best in New Jersey and especially here in Princeton."

"You heard him," House said. "He's a friend of the Athertons—_the_ Athertons who own and run Atherton Memorial who happen to be gung-ho on finding the cure for cancer. They can drag Billy Lang's expensive old ass here if they want to."

Cuddy shook her head. "I don't know Nathan Winslow, House."

"Then why would he lie his rich ass just to be _in _this hospital?" House pressed, walking closer. "And what does this morning's little incident mean when he insisted on calling you 'Elise'?"

"Grief confuses people," she replied dryly.

"You're lying."

"Everybody lies."

"So you admit you're lying?"

"I'm saying 'leave me alone'," she said, sighing again, looking tired and a little worn.

House stood there, staring at her. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," she said through gritted teeth. "Leave me."

"Not until I find out why you're lying," he stood his ground, planting his cane firmly into her carpet.

Cuddy's eyes matched his head on, the tiredness fading instantly, replaced with the darkening of a challenge being met.

House saw she was not giving in this time. She was ready to fight.

Fleetingly, he wondered if he had reason to be scared, or at the very least, feel anxious.

-o0o-

It was no secret to Cuddy just how far House would go to get his answers, whether it meant committing a crime punishable by law or destroying an MRI to get a bullet out of a dead body. It was one of the things she feared would inevitably happen when Nathan Winslow walked into her office—that House would take interest.

She should have pushed Nathan out sooner.

Now it was too late.

Cuddy was not prepared to give in, knowing whatever he may find out would ruin whatever she had so carefully built for at least two decades. She was not going to give in like this was some dangerous brain biopsy or some faceless patient. This was her _life_, she was ready to fight him off for it every way possible.

House could do practically all the impossible things, but this was something Cuddy was dead set willing to fight for. It was possible he would find out but she was going to make sure she was going to do everything imaginable to stop him.

If he found out, she knew it was over for _her_.

She'd built her life and as much as it felt harsh to admit it, House had the innate ability to ruin life faster than it took to build half.

He was one of the very few people she'd come to treasure, despite everything, but her life mattered more than playing his ridiculous games.

Cuddy hoped she wouldn't have to hurt him, knowing he was capable of driving her to do so very much. To stop him, she didn't dare think how she was going to do it.

She would let him play with his obsession to finding out answers _on a case_, but if it ever came to choosing between her and him in a personal level, especially after recent events, for once, she was going to pick herself.

Her eyes, taking on a stormy blue, matched his icy blue ones. "You have nothing to find out in here so unless you have anything medically relevant to discuss, _get out_."

He barely moved, his eyes never wavering against hers. "No. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell, House," she growled. "Get out!"

"Yeah, Cuddy, if you keep repeating it, I might just disappear."

Cuddy _knew_ she _could_ kill this man.

"_Who _is he?" House asked, his voice low, his neck bent as he looked at her, his eyes taking on a darker look. It was the look he used when he was being serious.

On bad days, it scared her, knowing when he looked like that, he meant business and he wasn't afraid of hurting anyone. On good days, especially when she wasn't the cause of those looks, she mused that he looked attractive in a dark, bad guy way.

It was the musings of a teenager, but she indulged, sometimes.

But not today.

Today, _she _was the cause of that look and today was not turning out to be a good day.

He wouldn't hurt her, he had no reason to, but he was serious.

"Nobody I know," Cuddy said, her eyes meeting him measure for measure. "Nobody you should care about."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Does Wilson need to be worried?" he asked, lifting his face a little, his eyes remaining fixed on her. "Was Wilson on to something today?"

No one would say it out loud, but this was as close as they were both going to get to him asking her if _he _had something to worry about, not that _he_ worried about _her_, of course_. _That was the way House was, always deflecting, always avoiding.

The things they would never say were usually the things that were the most important.

And somehow, in their twisted, undefined relationship, it made it work, made it fit and, dare she think, it was _perfect_.

_And special._

"No," she said, easily. It wasn't a lie. Wilson had nothing to worry about, just the same as House, but _she _had something to worry about, that was for sure. "Wilson just worries too much."

"Why are you lying?" he asked, glaring at her.

"Why do you even care?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Oh, wait, no," she shook her head. "You _don't _care so why are you bothering me about _my _life?"

Emotions that rode through her in a rollercoaster threatened to bubble to the surface, tempting her to lash out and rage in a way she wasn't able to after recent events not only involving House, but everything that had gone wrong lately. She knew it was not right, to hold it all in, but even with someone like Brenda around, she knew there still wasn't really anyone to talk to, anyone to cry and confide to.

There really hasn't been anyone for a while now.

And once again, she felt envious of House and Wilson, envying that House had _someone_ as loyal and as giving as Wilson. She always hated how he took advantage of having something, someone everyone else would have killed to have.

Her thoughts, lonely thoughts, drifted to Nathan.

_Yes, he's always done everything for her._

"I don't care," he nodded. "But I am curious and I _want _answers."

"I don't have them, sorry," she said sarcastically. "And even if I _had_ them, House, why would you even think I'd tell _you_, of all people? Sorry, I'm not pathetic enough to willingly be your little toy."

House just stared at her.

"You have a career, a job, and God forbid," she waved her hand at him. "A _life_ that you don't give a damn about…you have all those, you have Wilson and your _whores_," she spat the word out, flashes of him in his office, _her_ running _her_ hands on _his_ leather jacket, him grinning like an idiot running in her mind. "Leave what's mine alone and we'll be fine."

"Whores?" he asked, grinning. "Now, how would you know about that, little Miss Cuddy?"

"You flaunt it enough times for me _not _to know," she hissed, the anger she has been feeling for a while now was taking over. "And you better thank God or whoever you believe in that I haven't thrown you out on your ass yet. You're a damned good doctor House, but believe it or not, there's a line for _everyone_."

"What are you talking about?" he looked genuinely confused and for some reason, it pissed her off more. "Cuddy, you've lost me."

"Good," she said, standing up. "Now get out. I don't care what you're curious about, I don't care what you do, I don't care what you want. Just **get out**."

-o0o-

She hadn't yelled, but she'd said it so menacingly it worked better than actual yelling. House stood, toe to toe with her now, wondering if it would still be wise to stay. In her eyes, the emotions played and anger and—_hurt?_—dominated. It wasn't the everyday anger that he was familiar with.

This type of anger was not something he'd seen before.

"Why are you so angry?" was all he could think to ask.

So angry, so hurt…it left him wondering just exactly what was going on with her.

_Did he do something wrong again?_

He knew all the crap that was happening in her life, but he'd always chalked it up to Cuddy being Cuddy—_she can handle it, all of it_. She really didn't need anyone, not really.

And he'd always liked that.

Not that he would ever tell her, of course.

Now he had to wonder just how capable she was of being _alone_.

Cuddy was just human, after all.

But him being him, he wasn't about to let her _know_ he was aware of her _emotions_, of all things. He would never say or show he knew she was feeling less than okay. He wasn't going to hold her hand as she told him things that were bothering her—he wasn't Wilson. He wasn't going to hug her or let her cry—Cameron wouldn't even do that to her, why the hell would he? He wasn't going to visit her house with cakes and ice cream because she was sad—boyfriends and best friends were made for that, he wasn't any of those.

But he was willing to be House for her and the only problem was…

He wasn't what she needed.

Even he could see that.

Unless his goal was to break her—he was well aware he could do that _right now_—he had to step back.

But he was House, why should he?

Later, he would realize that was a bad decision.

"I'm angry because _you _are _pissing _me off!" she almost yelled, her voice rising just a few decibels higher. "Just get the hell out!"

He cocked his head to the side. "Why are you so bothered that I'm curious about _your _non-friend-visitor-probably-friend?" He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wait. Is he an old flame of Dr. Cuddy's?"

She glared at him. "No. Now get out."

"Come on, Cuddy," House bounced on one leg, pretending to be giddy. "Let's grab some hot chocolate, our jamies and let's gossip about how good he was in bed!"

"Get out!"

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?"

"If you don't leave now, I _will _hit you," she threatened as she went to her desk.

House watched as Cuddy slid behind her desk, pulling her chair forward and proceeded to take a seat. He turned his body towards her, cane still planted on the carpet, trying to make sure he would at least leave a small dent.

"Get out," she said again, lower this time. In her hand she was suddenly holding a small paper weight made of glass.

He wondered if she would truly dare throw it at him.

There was only one way to find out.

"Did he make you come?" he asked, grinning wolfishly. "Did he keep you up all night—"

He ducked just in time to miss the round glass she hurtled at him. "Cuddy!"

"GET OUT!"

He heard the clatter as the glass hit the shades that covered the glass panel of her door followed by the subsequent loud shattering as the glass met the uncarpeted floor. He turned, eyes wide, to look at pieces of glass spread all over her floors, pieces scattered all over, some of them adrift onto the carpet not too far away.

It occurred to him that that shattered glass could have cracked his head or, at the very least, leave a large, unforgettable bruise. He turned back to a fuming Cuddy who was breathing heavily, standing with her eyes wide, her cheeks red and her chest moving rapidly up and down.

Cuddy was the picture of pure rage and House didn't miss that.

_That, and the fact that she looked sexy as hell._

It intrigued him, to have her be outwardly violent after nine years of being his boss, to be violent _now_. It took a while and it was taking too little to set her off today, which was odd.

It fascinated him, driving him to want to find out exactly _what_ she was hiding.

"You could have killed me!" he cried out, shocked.

"Get. Out."

Eyes still wide, staring at her like he'd never seen her before, House backed away slowly, his cane making almost noiseless thumps against the floor. He never took his eyes off her, not out of fear, but out of morbid fascination and curiosity.

"I could sue you for that," he threatened though not at all serious.

"I could kill you for everything else," she said simply as she sat back down. "Now choose: get out or I pick another _heavier_ object to throw at you." She smirked. "And trust me, this time, I _won't_ miss."

Shaking his head he turned away from her. "You've lost it, Cuddy, truly lost it and while it's sexy as hell, I don't want to have to make conjugal visits to see you."

"You'd be too dead to make conjugal visits," she quipped simply. "And based on evidence, House, trust me. They'll _thank _me for killing you."

He ignored her and pulled her doors open, "Whatever, loony. This isn't over yet. I _am _going to find out what you are lying about. You know I will."

With that, he swept out of the room, as gracefully as a man with a limp and a cane could, leaving Cuddy seated behind her desk stock-still, exhausted once again.

He did always love making dramatic exits just as much as grand entrances.

-o0o-

Sinking into her chair, Cuddy closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She hadn't been lying to House when she said she was having a migraine, and after that last violent encounter, the migraine was murdering her slowly now.

Silently, she berated herself for losing control like that. When was the last time she had a temper tantrum like that? She sighed. She was Lisa Cuddy, she _didn't_ throw temper tantrums. She was always in control.

She had to be.

Closing her eyes, her mind drifted, as it had been doing before House had barged in.

"_Where have you been?"_

_The demanding voice had surprised the seventeen-year-old who had been sneaking up to her room, imported French strappy high heels in hand alongside her matching purse. The voice had caught her in the middle of the staircase, freezing her mid-step._

"_Damn, should have taken the backstairs..." she muttered, not at all intimidated now that the shock of being screeched at in the silence of the night had gone._

"_Elise?"_

"_What?" she whined snottily, still in the middle of the staircase, not looking down on the figure at the bottom of the steps. She didn't have to look when she already knew how she looked._

_And she didn't like it._

"_Do you have any idea what time it is?"_

_Elise bent her head down to her wrist, only to realize she wasn't wearing a watch. She tried to remember if she'd gone out wearing one that night only to realize…she couldn't._

_Maybe drinking that last shot was a bad idea…_

"_On the way, I checked it was…" she waved her shoes around, staring at the darkened ceiling. "Hm…'round two-forty…something—I don't know, don't remember and…" she grinned stupidly, turning to look down on the rattled figure on the bottom of the steps, smirking as she spotted the hands on the woman's waist in a posture that was supposed to scare her. "I don't care."_

"_It is four-thirty in the morning, young lady," the woman chastised severely. "You have a curfew for a reason. You are not to stay out later than eleven. On school nights."_

"_Oh who gives a damn?" Elise asked, rolling her eyes—bad idea! The stairs suddenly didn't seem too stable as her world spun a little. "I'm graduating in a few weeks, by then I'll be out so leave me the hell alone."_

"_Watch your mouth, young lady!"_

"_Young lady?" she laughed, throwing her head back, wild curls bouncing. "Oh, darling, please. It's been what…four years? When are you going to get that…" she turned and began to walk down the steps, dropping one shoe after the other followed by the purse as she went. "I don't give a rat's ass what you think?"_

_The woman's eyes, a puke-y green shade Elise had always made fun of, widened and blazed with fury. Her mouth was agape, her jaw set, and her eyes turning murderous as her hands fell and stiffened at her sides. It was a look she's known all too well now._

_She knew the woman was itching to slap her and it made her smile._

"_Don't you dare speak that way to me, Elise," the woman growled. "I am your mother—"_

"_No, you're not," Elise ground out, her eyes taking on their own blazing shade, the grayish-blues turning into a stormy shade filled with anger and rage. "You ARE __**NOT**__ my __**MOTHER!**__"_

"_Your mother," the woman said, smirking in triumph that she had once more let the teenager loose control. "Is _dead_, and it's been _five _years, _darling_, time to get over it."_

_Hands fisted at her sides, Elise's eyes burned. "You stupid, cold-hearted, ugly bit—"_

"_What is going on here? What's all this?"_

_Elise looked up to see her father on top of the staircase, dark blue robe wrapped around him and striped pajama bottoms covering his legs, slippers on his feet, his hair messy with sleep, eyes on her laced with reprimand and disappointment. Behind him, she could see her brother coming, dressed in a shirt and pajama bottoms sleepy._

"_Talk to you damned wife!" Elise snapped, her eyes returning to the woman in front of her who was looking triumphant once more, eyes dancing with glee._

"_Elise, language," her father reprimanded. "And what are you doing dressed like that at this time of night? Did you just come in?"_

"_Tim had a party, I had to go," was her quick response._

"_It's four in the morning," he said as he came down the steps._

"_Yeah, so what the hell is she doing up?" Elise glared at her stepmother._

_Boy, did fairytales got it right. Stepmothers were bitches._

"_Elise, that is enough!" her father reprimanded harshly. "You need to get to bed. We will talk about this tomorrow. Your behavior was uncalled for and you have gone way past your curfew."_

"_But—"_

"_No buts," he interrupted. "Get to bed."_

"_She was pretending to be my mother!" Elise screamed, not caring now if she woke up the entire house or the neighborhood. "She has _no _right to do that!"_

"_I was only telling her not to go out so late," the woman cut in, softly. "Honestly, Damien, I was worried sick when I found her room empty."_

"_Shut up!"_

"_Elise!"_

_Elise glared at her father. "She told me mom's been dead for five years so I should 'get over it'!"_

_Damien looked at his wife as Elliot, barefoot, rushed down the steps._

"_Barbara?"_

_The woman's eyes showed confusion, "Honestly, Damien, do you really think I would say such a thing? You know I wouldn't…"_

"_Liar!" Elise tried to launch herself at the woman but found Elliot suddenly holding her back. "Liar! You lying cold-hearted stupid cow!"_

"_Lily," Elliot said softly, holding his sister carefully while trying not to hurt her. Elliot had always been less vocal than Elise, letting her do most of the talking even though he was older than her by a few years. Between the two of them, Elise was rightfully the social butterfly and he was fine with that. He wasn't the type to mix and mingle._

"_Elise, stop it!" her father yelled, stepping in front of his wife now, shielding her from his daughter._

"_She doesn't care about me!" the teenager screamed. "She doesn't give a damn and she's _glad_ my mother is dead! She's a gold-digger, she's cold-hearted and she—"_

"_Elise, stop it right now!" Damien screamed at Elise, silencing her._

"_That is **enough**," he said harshly, his eyes boring into hers, brown piercing stormy-blue. "You have said enough for tonight. You are out of control, Elise, and I have let it go on for too long now. You are graduating in a few days, don't make me think you're not ready for college. Don't you dare, Elise, because if you keep behaving immaturely, I _will _make sure you stay here until I'm sure you have matured and can act civil towards Barbara."_

"_Dad," Elliot interrupted. He knew what college meant to Elise, how important it was for her to go. He knew she had been aching to escape since he left for college, always open to let him know how trapped she felt alone with their stepmother while he was in New Haven._

"_Stay out of this, Elliot," Damien said, his eyes digging into his daughter's. "Your sister needs to learn she doesn't always get what she wants. Either she goes with you to Yale or she stays and learns the hard way."_

_Elise's eyes burned with tears. "You wouldn't dare."_

"_Try me," he said in a low voice that meant he was serious. "Apologize to your stepmother."_

"_No."_

"_Apologize of I will call Dean Kelly first thing today and tell him you won't be coming in on the fall," the threat was clear and genuine._

_Elise's eyes met her father's challenge before she accepted defeat. "I'm sorry."_

_Her voice was hard and cold, not at all carrying the emotion needed to make it ring true and Damien was about to call her on it until Barbara placed her hand on his arm. "It's all right."_

_Elise trembled against Elliot._

"_Everything will be fine," Barbara said with a smile to Elise. "She's just growing up, Damien, I understand. One day, she will know I love her." She opened her arms. "Right, Lily?"_

_Elise looked at her father who nodded at her, signaling her to accept the embrace. Reluctantly, she stepped away from the protective hold of her brother and stepped into the embrace of Barbara the Barbarian. She felt her bony arms encircle her body then she stiffened._

"_Everything's going to be just fine."_

_Elise fought the urge to jump back and slap her. "Don't call me Lily. Only my brother and my mother call me Lily…" she said it so quietly she knew her father wouldn't hear._

_It was quiet, but it held enough acid for the message to stick._

_Barbara pulled back with a smile that seemed to hold more of a threat to her than an actual smile. "It's late, Elise, you should sleep. Off to bed, you too Elliot."_

_Placing his arms around her, Elliot led Elise away, taking her up the steps, passing by her scattered things. He made sure she didn't turn back as saw the tears slowly trickle down her cheeks, a soft quiet sob escaping her trembling lips._

"_She's just overwhelmed, Damien. She will be just fine…don't worry," was the last thing they heard as Elliot brought Elise to her room, ready to tuck her in and let her sleep._

_Battles with Barbara the Barbarian alongside their father always left her drained and broken._

_Tonight was no exception._

Cuddy's eyes burned with tears, remembering how her brother, her ever protective brother had tucked her in that night and stayed with her until morning when she begged him not to go. Elliot was always there for her, always there to protect her from their stepmother, right from the beginning while their own father was too blind to her obvious faults.

To this day, Barbara still wasn't forgiven and Cuddy knew she never would be.

Cuddy closed her eyes, letting Elliot's words from all those years ago comfort her, knowing they would. She thought about him, everyday, and with Nathan coming for her, she was torn between coming back for him and staying farther away.

Elliot hadn't called her so it meant him wanting her to stay away, knowing it would hurt her to come home. It was, she knew, a sign for her that Barbara was still indeed very much in their lives. He was always protective and he always did what was best for her.

_Should she come home, for him?_

Memories of her stepmother came back along with everything she ever did to Cuddy, remembering all the things she'd done that never hurt her physically, but scarred her emotionally.

The woman was vile and cruel, right from the beginning and she was cunning and a terrific liar. Barbara didn't care about others, she didn't care who she hurt. Since she'd been thirteen, Cuddy had known the woman had been anything but good.

From the very beginning, Barbara had always been too good to be true.

Cuddy had watched, standing with Elliot in the family room next to the living room where her mother's beautiful picture hung in her memory, as her father, smiling proudly and happily, strode in with a woman obviously years younger than him, blonde with sap-crap-green colored eyes and a plastic smile complete with a bony figure and overly-slutty clothes, introducing her as 'Barbara' to everyone.

Her mother's death had scarred her deeper than anyone, except Elliot, truly understood and while her father had been supportive and caring, he had made the crucial mistake of bringing in Barbara into their lives, pushing her in with the thought he was doing a good thing. He had thought Elise needed a mother-figure as soon as he could get one so he did.

And it hurt Elise more than she already had been with the loss, later she'd been hurt more when changes took place, changes that didn't help her with her struggle to cope with losing her mother.

A year after Cuddy's mother died, a stepmother had moved in: complete with a new master bedroom, a diamond engagement ring of her choice then soon a church and a wedding ring.

Elise had been dragged on kicking and screaming to the wedding with Elliot following by, compliant to his father's wishes, not because he was weak, but because he had been older and had an almost understanding of things that Elise had been too young and too distraught to understand and grasp.

He had stood by their father at the church while Elise sat next to her grandparents, her father's parents, with Nathan next to her, holding her hand tight as she fought off the urge to scream and ruin the wedding. She didn't, not because she didn't want to, but because her father had been firm with her, vowing a punishment better worth it should she ruin their day.

A promise of a boarding school out of the country with Christmas and half of summer vacations serving as the only tickets to home and no way of communicating with her brother was the clear promise of a threat and Elliot had fought with him on it only to be taken down as well.

It was the first time he had been harsh with her then and it had stunned Elise into hurt silence.

Damien was set on marrying his bride, blindly 'in love' by then and Cuddy sat back with anger and nearing hatred towards the blonde disaster who later made her home life miserable.

Fighting off memories once more, Cuddy forced her eyes open, pulling her away from the dark memories that were safer not to be pried free again. That life had long gone and while she was torn with coming home, she hoped she didn't have to.

A part of her hoped, despite the possible disasters it may bring, that Nathan would just truly take Elliot to Princeton, if only to see him again.

Twenty years long gone with barely a glimpse of her brother had left Cuddy aching each day, not remembering the last time he had smiled or held her, remembering when he had been the one to cut the disgusting crusts off her peanut-butter-and-Oreos-and-jelly sandwiches and tucked her in at night while their father was once more out of the country and stayed up late with her, just talking and being her big brother.

After losing their mother, Elliot had taken her place, promising to be there for Elise, always and forever and to support her in everything and care for her.

He had given her everything…

Her life, as Lisa Cuddy, included.

-o0o0o0o0o-

Whew, now this was a long one. Hope you don't mind!

I updated late so I hope this BIG glimpse into Cuddy's past made up for it. Her stepmom sounds like a total bitch, huh? Oh well…and her dad is something boring and bad looking, but I hope you guys like Elliot.

Keep reading (and reviewing) and you'll see more into Cuddy's past. _Ahem, anybody notice no last names for them? Not yet, but you'll see…I'll make it work!_

Now, who wants Cuddy to go back home? Is Elliot dying? Cruel, isn't it? To be reunited with her long lost brother like this…I'm bad, bad, bad.

And another long a/n, apparently, forgive me, but you'll see why:

So much to talk about this week with the spoilers and the Golden Globes (House lost and they starved Lisa Edelstein, boo!)

Did you guys see the "Urine Sample" vid on youtube with Lisa Edelstein and Ross from Jay Leno? Effing hilarious, I died laughing! Heidi Klum and Susan Sarandon helped with that too!

Lisa looked gorgeous, right? I went gaga-gay over her! And who hasn't seen the Rachel spoilers? I fell so in love with the little "family" picture on the spoilers with House, baby Rachel and Cuddy! OMG moment, truly! It's my current desktop background on my laptop and computer! So adorable! House looked like he was trying to talk to the baby, Cuddy looked so in love, pure bliss while the baby looked _terrified_. LOL

Anyway…done with my gushing, I'm tempted to do…more, but I'll hold back before I piss off anyone. I know, this was long again…sorry, but you understand, right? If not, go to youtube and all the House and Lisa related sites, along with spoiler pics as well as the press pics. TCA's as well, check it out! Olivia and Lisa's vid rocked and Lisa was uber-wanna-go-gay-for-gorgeous on the TCA pics.

Anyway…again, review, I'm working on this faster, promise! I like reading long and chatty reviews, I love feedback!

Gearing up for 'Painless' and I hope you guys are too!

With much love,  
xoxOphelia

_I Forgot to Remember to Forget _by _Elvis Presley_


	9. Chapter 8: That's What You Get

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas…will come.

Note: Thank you so, so, so much for the reviews. You know I love them! I heart you all totally!

Oh, and, so excited to see Cameron as Dean of Medicine. It's about time someone realized how the other half lives (no pun intended, seriously) Not that I want Cameron as Dean, I still think she's a little bunny, but it would be _hilarious_ to see how much House will torture her. LOL I saw the previews, the crying baby sound in the OR and Mommy Cuddy coming back while House is with the patient…beautiful!

Lisa Cuddy will always be the Dean of Medicine and Chief Administrator of my heart…does that make sense? Pfft…I'm an idiot.

Seems like ya'll want Little Miss Cuddy to go face Barbara the Barbarian…coolio, we're heading that way, my dears. Gear up, it's going to be one bumpy ride…Oh, and the twists are twistier than…House and his hookers. Trust me. You won't believe it (coming soon!)

Chapter Eight: That's What You Get

Cody waited until Dr. House was completely gone before coming in. She had heard the crash and Dr. House telling Dr. Cuddy 'she's lost it' and then something about conjugal visits that the young assistant didn't bother try to understand. They could have their secrets; she really didn't think this was one she wanted to know about.

"Dr. Cuddy?" she called tentatively, her eyes zeroing on immediately on the shattered pieces of glass. She guessed it was the pretty round paperweight on the Dean of Medicine's desk.

_Did she throw it _at _Dr. House?_

She didn't want to know about that either, but then a part of her silently applauded the good doctor for finally showing the jerk who was really the boss. She couldn't wait to tell Brenda then later listen to Brenda jump around Dr. Cuddy's office, poking around for details.

Cody already knew Brenda well enough to know how she'd react.

Minding the pieces of glass, Cody stepped into the office. She'd gotten no reaction from her boss and from what she could see, Dr. Cuddy was leaning back on her seat, and her eyes shut tightly, seemingly lost in her own world.

"Dr. Cuddy?" Cody asked, softly, afraid to jar the woman from her thoughts.

Eyes snapping wide open, the doctor sat up, hands flying up to her eyes and cheeks, wiping away a few tears that didn't go unnoticed by Cody. She wondered what Dr. House had done to upset the beautiful doctor bad enough to make her cry.

_Stupid jerk…_

"Oh my god, Dr. Cuddy, are you okay?" Cody asked as she rushed to the table, stopping just short in front of the table, afraid to cross some unmarked boundaries. Placing her hands flat on the smooth beautiful surface, she inwardly admired the beautiful table once more, wondering again for the tenth time where the doctor ordered it from.

Dr. Cuddy turned her seat away to the side, wiping the corners of her eyes with her fingers. "No—I mean, _yes_, I'm fine, Cody. Everything's okay."

The only time she'd ever seen the doctor cry was when Joy's mother took her back, shattering Dr. Cuddy's dreams of being a mother, but even then, she'd never seen the woman _actually _cry. She's stopped the tears from falling the entire time she was within hospital grounds, steeling herself the entire time, making sure not a single tear fell in the midst of her employees who kept giving her sympathetic looks.

It had amazed Cody then how Dr. Cuddy managed not to fall apart, even in her office, even after a full day of Dr. House telling her she would be a terrible mother.

It scared her, somewhat, to see the strong woman practically breaking down after a confrontation with the questionably human diagnostician.

"I—you're crying…Dr. Cuddy, did Dr. House—"

Cuddy shook her head. "No, don't worry. It wasn't Dr. House, Cody. I'm okay…just a bit worn out." She smiled shakily. "I…sometimes when I'm really…frustrated…you know."

Cody nodded though she didn't quite believe her. Dr. Cuddy's frustration was a six-foot-tall overgrown child with a cane whose favorite things composed of a Gameboy, a PSP, unlimited supply of Vicodin, a motorcycle _and_ making her life miserable.

If getting frustrated made her cry then Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital would have drowned in tears by now.

But Cody knew when it wasn't her place to pry so she kept quiet. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee or soda or…tea or water, if you want…"

Dr. Cuddy shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she smiled reassuringly. "But would you mind calling for someone to…" she gestured around the front of her office. "Clean up. I'm afraid I got a little…"

"Pissed off?" Cody supplied helpfully.

"Out of hand," Dr. Cuddy corrected with an embarrassed smiled. "With Dr. House…he's been more insufferable lately."

Cody nodded. "Understood…although, Dr. Cuddy, if it's not, er, out of line for me to say," she shrugged; might as well be honest about it. "Dr. House, whatever you did, other than throw your paperweight at him…I think he deserves more than that."

Everyone was honest about how they felt about the infamous Dr. House, Cody was confident Dr. Cuddy wouldn't mind her honesty.

Dr. Cuddy smiled weakly. "Yes, perhaps, but he _is _a great doctor…his being insufferable is the price _we_ have to pay for all the lives he's saved that nobody else could have."

Cody nodded. "I guess that makes sense…but don't you ever get tired, Dr. Cuddy? Of having the one to pay the biggest price every day? Having him bother you and insult you on a daily basis—are the lives of strangers worth it?"

It always bothered her, how a woman in such power could let a man like Greg House rule over her and practically allow him to tear her down every day without so much as a second thought. Lives, of course, were important and as doctors, it was their job to save them…

But it left Cody wondering, _was Dr. Cuddy's life truly worth sacrificing for a hospital?_

She watched the doctor lean back, her eyes finding the ceiling for a moment before meeting hers once more. "That's a loaded question, Cody, but…House is not always bad. He is truly brilliant, as a doctor, but you also have to put in mind he's…damaged in a lot of ways." She sighed. "He wasn't always like that, honestly. Before…" she cocked her head to the side, her eyes falling to the floor. "The infarction…"

"His leg?" she'd heard the hushed stories about Dr. House's leg, about Dr. Cuddy being his attending, about the rampage he'd caused, about the old girlfriend Stacy-something, the aftermath when he'd been in a rage waking up with a muscle missing, how he'd been so angry he'd thrown one fit after another, driving everyone away, even Dr. Cuddy who wasn't Dean of Medicine yet, how he'd lashed out at her when his girlfriend was away.

She also knew about his screaming at her daily when he blamed her, along with his girlfriend, how they destroyed his life, how he thought her as a failure of a doctor.

It had been awful hearing those things, being told how it all went down and it amazed Cody how Dr. Cuddy managed to stick around and swallowed hiring him. Of course, everyone felt it was pity for the man who claimed she destroyed his life. Guilt complex was what they labeled it, but to Cody, it was still stunning to know the things he'd said and done only to have her bring him back and open an entire department for him.

She imagined that took a lot of courage and healing, after everything that happened.

It was an amazing story about an amazing woman, but Cody knew it had to be kept quiet.

Dr. Cuddy and Dr. House were assuming a good working relationship now, Cody or anyone else daring to bring it up was probably suicide.

"Yes," Dr. Cuddy said, nodding. "Before that, of course, he was still the same ego-maniacal, narcissistic bastard, but the difference…" she smiled, slowly as if remembering. "Was he was almost happy, I think. Back then he wasn't as trashy with his clothes or as…daring with his life. Back then, House was…brighter, I guess. He wasn't always such a pain in the ass, really. The infarction just…made him angry."

"So before he wasn't as bad?" Cody asked, eyes wide.

The woman nodded. "Yes, before he was…capable of laughing and smiling. Not so much now."

Cody frowned. "Why? He got a second chance at life. Some people don't even get that, why is he miserable about it?"

Cuddy smiled at her, Cody guessed it was probably over her innocence, her naivety. "You see that cane he walks with? That's why. And it's not just a second chance…" she paused. "He's escaped death more than three times now."

Cody's eyes widened. "Three?"

"More than three…the infarction," a dark painted nail rose up to count, resting against her chin. "Then there was the bus crash after that the crack in his skull, before that when he put a knife through a socket—"

"What?" Cody exclaimed, looking down on the woman. "Seriously?"

Dr. Cuddy nodded. "Yeah, he stabbed a socket with a knife after having a patient in the Clinic do the same. The guy died, he didn't…I still don't know why, but Wilson told me it wasn't for suicidal reasons…"

Cody sat down on the chair in front of the desk. "Sounds stupid."

"It was," Dr. Cuddy said, nodding. "And prior to all that, he was shot, twice, in his office."

Cody nodded. She'd heard of that. A guy coming in asking who Greg House was then shot him twice without a second thought, falling the proud doctor right in his office floors, blood staining his carpet. She'd heard of it, along with everyone else's opinion.

Of course, some said it was just a matter of time, but others had their own opinions…well, the one part where he 'deserved it' was dominant, but she wouldn't say it aloud.

"He's like a cat, isn't he?" Cody mused. "Nine lives…how many has he lost?"

She watched the doctor's eyes fall to the floor once more, looking sad and troubled though she tried to hide it. "Too many already…"

Cody nodded, but said nothing and she stood up. She excused herself, informing the troubled doctor she was calling for clean-up. The woman nodded, absently, and though the redness in her eyes were still there, Cody found a new set of emotions on her face, unreadable, but enough to let her draw guesses.

She thought she saw sadness, defeat and regret.

_For what? House…why?_

She slipped out, quietly, knowing her boss was lost in her own world at the moment.

For now, the conversation was over.

-o0o-

The group of fellows sat in the conference area of the Diagnostics office. Kutner sat in front of the board, twirling a green marker in his hand, staring off into space while Chris Taub sat across from him, reading the patient file. Remy Hadley who was known more to everyone as 'Thirteen' sat in the corner of the room with Eric Foreman, both of them discussing the current state of her schedule regarding her participation in the Huntington's Drug Trials.

"Is he even coming?" Taub asked, annoyed.

"He asked for three separate diagnoses from all of us," Kutner muttered. "Could be arthritis…"

"No history," Taub interjected automatically. "Think again."

"What about Lupus?" Kutner asked, green marker uncapped now as the symptoms _'joint pain' _in his messy scrawl, in green. He liked green.

"It's never Lupus," Foreman said, looking up at him from his seat next to Thirteen who was looking at the board as well.

"What about Lyme Disease?" she said, glassy cat-like eyes calculating. "She could have had some flu-like symptoms and brushed them off."

"Oh, so you can hear us?" Taub said sarcastically. "Didn't think you were interested in _this _patient, Foreman..."

"Yes, I am," Foreman said, not looking amused by Taub's wit. "And Lyme Disease would require we search for tick bites. She could have brushed that off to some bug-bite too."

"You think Dr. Cameron didn't check for that already?" Kutner asked, "I mean, I'm sure she tried to diagnose her before shipping her here."

"She crossed out Lyme Disease," Taub confirmed. "What about Tendonitis?"

"House would call you an idiot," Foreman said. "She would have to be in extreme pain. Her boyfriend found her passed out from blood loss Cameron found out about the pain."

"What about Staph Infection?" Kutner suggested. "Septic Arthritis could be her symptom."

"She did say she's been feeling the joint pains since yesterday," Taub nodded. "We'd have to get in her house, maybe her dance studio."

Thirteen nodded. "We should—"

Suddenly, the doors to the other, smaller office burst open and their boss came limping in. He was frowning, a clear sign he was in no mood to talk to anyone, but they had a case so everyone turned to Kutner who shook his head.

"I gave him the case, it's someone else's turn," Kutner said, eyes wide.

Thirteen looked at Taub who looked at Foreman.

Foreman shook his head. "I'll get him."

Walking bravely towards the main office, the oldest member of the team slipped into the room, closing the door behind him as he prepared for another battle of insults and sarcasm with the cranky Head of Diagnostics.

"We've got a case," Foreman said as he entered the office to find his boss bouncing his red and gray tennis ball against the wall, looking deep in thought. He was seated behind his desk, ball bouncing back and fourth, hands catching on instinct.

"I got one too," House muttered. "Tell me, why would a usually composed, control-addicted person suddenly throw a glass ball that could most probably crack someone's skull open because he was asking about her?"

"I don't know," Foreman said. "And I don't care" He opened his case folder. "Female, admitted with joint pains—"

"You diagnose this, I diagnose her," House interrupted, catching the ball in one hand as he stared at Foreman, his icy blue eyes dead serious.

"Undiagnosed Turret's Syndrome?" Foreman offered offhandedly.

House smirked, "Don't think so. She's way too hot for that."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "We have a case and whatever—"

"Cuddy chucked her paperweight at me," House said. "What does that tell you?"

"That you pissed her off _again_," Foreman said simply. "And what do you mean by _chucked_?"

"As in she picked up the glass and threw it at my head," House elaborated. "Like the first Ex-Mrs.-Wilson when she found out about the Ped's nurse only it was a hairdryer."

Foreman smirked. "Cool. It's about time."

"Uh, excuse me, I'm still in the room?" House said sarcastically, putting his ball back on his table. "I have feelings, you know."

"No, you don't," Foreman said as he tossed the file on House's table. "Now, diagnose this patient, save her life and _maybe _Cuddy won't throw something at you again."

House scowled. "I could fire you, you know."

"No, you can't," Foreman shook his head. "When you're ready, your team has a diagnosis ready. They're waiting for you, _boss_."

Stalking out of the room and leaving the door wide open, Foreman took his seat again while Thirteen, Kutner and Taub waited. The words _'Staph Infection' _was now written in blue while _'Lyme Disease' _in brown was crossed out over it in red. Kutner was standing next to the board, a violet colored marker in his hand now.

"Colorful," Foreman said, shaking his head while Kutner grinned stupidly.

"What did House say?" Taub asked.

"Cuddy tried to off him with a paperweight."

Hearing nothing after that, the three fellows looked at each other before Thirteen, with a disbelieving grin on her face, said, "You're not kidding?"

Foreman shook his head. "Nope: quote, _Cuddy chucked her paperweight at him_, unquote."

"Chucked as in…" Taub cocked his head to the side in question.

"Again, I quote, _as in she picked up the glass and threw it his _**head**," Foreman smirked. "_Like the first Ex-Mrs.-Wilson when she found out about the Ped's nurse only it was a hairdryer, _unquote."

"Wilson's first wife threw a hairdryer at him?" Kutner asked, grinning. "Cool."

"He cheated on his wife?" Taub asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'm sure you can relate," came the dry interruption.

They all looked up to see House in the doorway.

"Cuddy threw a paperweight at you?" Thirteen asked, looking impressed and amused.

"Yes, I just called my lawyer," House nodded. "I am _so _owning this hospital."

Thirteen smirked. "Once they call for witnesses, I'm sure they'll chastise her for _missing_." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, and, yes, I will _willingly _testify."

"What'd you do?" Kutner asked.

"Don't we have a case?" Foreman muttered.

"She wanted me to have sex with her on her desk, I foolishly said no," House sighed deeply. "Me and my inability to break the code of ethics…knew it'd bite me in the ass one day."

Kutner snickered while Taub shook his head and Thirteen rolled her eyes.

"The day Cuddy asks _you _for sex _anywhere_," Foreman began. "Is the day she quits her job to be a pole dancer."

House groaned. "Oh, Foreman, what makes you think she _isn't _already a pole dancer? Administrator by day, hot little minx by night, complete with Catholic School Girl outfit…meow."

Kutner stared off into space. "Now that's _hot_."

House glared at his fellow. "Don't you have some _colorful _diagnosis to do?"

Kutner dropped the violet marker. "I was just…"

"Reliving pre-school, I know," House snarked. "Why is Lyme Disease crossed out?"

"Dr. Cameron checked already, ruled it out then handed it over," Taub said, reading through the file again. "We think it's a Staph Infection."

House shook his head. "Thirteen check the patient for tick bites, Foreman check the house, pre-school and little man, run cultures."

"But we just said Cameron—"

"And I'm saying check again," House pressed. "I have a team for a reason, and that's to tell you what to do," he told Thirteen who was scowling mildly. "And hey, she's a dancer. She's bound to be hot, you know. Might just steal her from the idiot boyfriend…"

"He's not an idiot, he brought her here," Thirteen said as she left the room.

"They're all idiots," House said, always having to have the last word.

Minus one member in the room, House stared at the rest of them. "Cultures won't run themselves," he told the two. "And house won't ransack itself for bacteria."

Trickling out of the room one by one, House watched them go until Kutner stopped by the doors. "Did she really throw her glass paperweight at you?"

"How'd you know it was glass?" House asked, frowning.

"Been to her office enough times to notice it," Kutner shrugged. "It was pretty. And Foreman did quote you word for word, I think."

House rolled his eyes. "Yes, he did and _yes, _she _did_. Almost split my skull in half. Happy?"

"No," Kutner grinned. "But it's funny."

"What's funny?" House asked a moment later, but the fellow had gone.

Scowling, House slipped back into his office.

What the hell was so funny about Cuddy throwing something at him?

_And what the hell was she hiding?_

Growling with frustration, House plopped himself back on his comfortably soft yellow plush lounge, putting his feet up and his cane aside, his mind already turning with possibilities as he mentally diagnosed Lisa Cuddy.

-o0o-

Sitting in a sleek black limousine, Nathan Winslow sat back with his eyes closed, his cell phone gripped in one hand while the other held a glass of scotch. "I know," he muttered. "I…they were all there, her doctors, colleagues of hers, I don't know if they're actual friends, but they seem to be. I had to say _something_."

If one had been sitting across from the man, observing, one would think he was a little insane, talking to no one, unseeing the little communicator clipped in his ear, listening to the person on the other end.

"She looks…fine," he said, opening his eyes, smiling. "She's beautiful."

"Happy?" he exhaled loudly. "That's a good question. She didn't look happy to see me…" he paused to listen to the person on the other end. "Overall? I don't know. She's a doctor, she is who she wanted to be…" he nodded, although the person he was talking to couldn't see him.

"I know…" he sipped his scotch, listening. "I'll come back maybe later…" he nodded again, silently agreeing. "She's got me tied to her Oncologist, Wilson, he seems like a good guy…he's good to her…" He rolled his eyes. "Of course, I remember. Give me more credit, would you?"

He downed his scotch, "She doesn't know a thing," he sighed again. "At least, not yet, but you know she's smart. She'll figure it out, we'll get caught and…" he shook his head. "And I don't want to hurt her or lose her all over again."

He watched the scenery of Princeton, New Jersey pass by. "I know, but somehow this feels _wrong_…I've _never _lied to her." He grinned. "Oh, did not lie. She knew!"

Chuckling, the tension eased now by the glass of scotch and the tension flowing away from the conversation, Nathan leaned back, smiling, remembering. "Yes…of course, I want her home as much as you do…" He loosened his tie. "She needs to come home, she'll understand. She will when she sees everything. She'll come home."

Seeing he had arrived at his destination, Nathan smiled. "I'm here. I've got to go." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah…I _know_, I already told you. Give me some credit on this. You're older, but I'm still better at remembering than you. Besides, this was my idea." He chuckled. "Thanks again. I'll let you know when I get back. Okay. Bye."

Pushing his BlackBerry back in his pocket, Nathan lowered his window as the partition between the backseat and the driver's seat lowered. "We're here, Mr. Winslow. Eighteen-fifty-eight Doyle Road." The driver turned to him with a grin. "It's a beautiful house, sir."

Nathan smiled, never taking his eyes away from the house in front of him, taking in the impeccably well-kept front garden lawn, the porch with the green door, the abundance of greens and flowers…it was so her. "Yes, it is, Lionel. Yes, it is."

Pulling out a small card and a bouquet of Lilies, Nathan straightened himself up as Lionel Adler, his trusted longtime chauffer, opened his door for him. "Need help, sir?"

Nathan grinned as he got out without assistance. "You're older than me, Lionel, I'm fine."

"Lilies, sir, beautiful choice," Lionel smiled, his soft blue eyes shinning. "She must be special, sir. It's been a while since we dropped off flowers for someone."

A solemn look fell on Nathan's face. He remembered exactly the last time he'd bought Lilies for someone…

_He only ever bought them for one person._

Staring at the bouquet in his hands, Nathan's thoughts began to drift off.

"_You look beautiful."_

_Smiling, Elise turned around, robes doned and her graduation cap in her hand. "Hey you," instantly her arms were around him, her cheek pressing on his shoulder. "You look handsome."_

"_Bet you say that to all the eighteen year olds," he kidded as he softly ran his hands through her now wavy hair, the curly locks he loved so much momentarily gone thanks to some very high priced snotty hair and makeup ladies who, in his opinion, needed more work done than his beautiful Elise._

"_Only to cute blonde ones," she smiled up at him then kissed him on the lips playfully._

"_You really do look beautiful today, more so than usual," he meant it._

_She pouted. "Bet you say that to all the seventeen year olds wrapped around you."_

"_Only to you," he kissed the tip of her nose. "Ready?"_

"_As I'll ever be," she nodded, pulling away as she turned back to the mirror, placing her cap on her head experimentally. "The car is almost here and Tim is not here yet."_

"_Tim's always late," Nathan told her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He was taller than her by a lot of inches already. He'd teased her about passing the six-feet mark a few years back, but she'd always make him pay for it. "Forget about it. You have your speech ready?"_

_She smiled at him, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. They were glowing. "Of course…"_

"_I've got a surprise for you," he said, pulling away as he exited her room._

"_What?" he heard her whine, too impatient for surprises._

_Pulling an envelope and a bouquet of Lilies into his arms, he entered her room, beaming._

"_Nathan Winslow!" she giggled. "You promised no surprises until _after _graduation!"_

_He laughed. "This one…can't wait."_

_Giving her the bouquet of Lilies, he placed a sweet kiss on her lips. "Congratulations, Elise, now…all your dreams will come true."_

_Elise smiled, looking almost sad, but it was gone so fast he wasn't sure if the sadness had been there in the first place. She nodded as she smelled the sweet scent of the flowers, eyes closed._

_She always closed her eyes when she felt like crying…_

_Instantly, his arms were around her from behind, kissing the top of her head as he removed her cap. "She's proud of you."_

"_Is she?" she asked, softly, her eyes still closed. "I miss her."_

"_Every day, so do I," he nodded. "But today, today is your day. She's watching, as she always will be, and she is proud of you. I am."_

_Her eyes opened, looking glassy. "You always know the right things to say."_

"_I only say what I know is true, you know that," he said to her as she looked over her shoulder, the bouquet of Lilies still held close to her._

_She nodded. "Thank you, Nate."_

"_You know I love you," he whispered as he placed an envelope in front of her. "Open it."_

_Shakily, she placed the flowers down then reached for the envelope. She pulled out papers and brochures. "What's this?"_

_Nathan smiled as he walked around to stand in front of her. "I was thinking we could go on a trip, before we get on with school in the fall?"_

_Elise looked up, her eyes wide. "But…Yale, this summer…you're going, right?"_

_He smiled. "If you're not, I won't…"_

"_Nate," she said, closing her eyes. "I…I already turned down Yale."_

_Nathan grinned. "That's funny, Elise. You've been dreaming of Yale since…forever."_

_Elise looked down. "Not anymore…"_

_He stopped, realizing then right away she was serious. "Wh-what? What are you talking about?"_

"_I was going to tell you tonight," she said, softly. "But…I'm so sorry, Nate."_

"_Where will you go?" he asked, wondering if she was having some sort of breakdown. "We went to Yale, we've checked the clubs, we've…we've picked out spots! Yale is ours…"_

"_I'm flying to Ann Arbor," Elise said, looking at him with sad eyes. "Two weeks from now."_

"_Oh, no, Elise," he moaned. "Lily, no…please. Michigan?"_

"_Yes," Elise said, her voice clearer this time. "University of Michigan."_

"_What? Lily, you've been _accepted _by _Yale_," he reminded her. "They _want _**you**__. Everything you've ever worked for, you did it for Yale. Remember? Law school, you, me, Ellie and Tim in Juilliard…what are you doing?"_

"_Ellie and Tim know," she said. "But dad doesn't."_

"_What?" Nathan asked. "Elliot?"_

_She nodded. "I love you, I do, but I have to do this." She took a deep breath. "I _**want** _to be a _doctor_, Nate. I'm _going _to be a doctor."_

"_And Damien doesn't know?"_

_Elise frowned. "Not yet."_

"_What happens when he finds out?"_

"_He has his wife," she said bitterly. "He'll live without me."_

"_Elise."_

"_I mean it," she pressed. "I'm doing this, Nate…I'm so sorry."_

"_Elise…"_

"_It's not that far, we'll see each other, when we come home or-or I can come see you or you can come see me," she said, cupping his face in her hands. "I'm sorry, I have to do this."_

_Staring at her for a few moments, thoughts running through his mind in overdrive, Nathan finally gathered her in his arms, holding on to her tightly. "Tell me everything will be okay."_

_He didn't want to let her go, it felt like they were saying goodbye already._

"_I hope," she said softly. "Thank you for the Lilies."_

_That day, Elise gave her final speech as valedictorian and the youngest to graduate, that night, after the parties, they checked into the Plaza Hotel with Elliot and Tim, celebrating and laughing, drinking and having fun, sharing the few of the last memories they would share together._

_Back then, life was perfect. That night, no one mentioned Ann Arbor or Yale or the University of Michigan. Everything about that night was celebrating freedom._

_Two weeks later, Elliot and Elise boarded a plane to Ann Arbor while Tim and Nathan watched with heavy hearts. A week later, Nathan went up to New Haven, Connecticut with Tim._

_A week after that, Elliot was back in New Haven, Tim was in Ann Arbor with Elise and Nathan was booking his first and unknowingly, his last, flight to Ann Arbor, Michigan._

_When the fall semester started, Nathan was single, Elliot was busy, Tim was back in New York in Juilliard and Elise was still in Michigan with no word or a letter._

_Nathan never bought Lilies for anyone else._

"Mr. Winslow?"

Nathan's head shot up, his eyes wide. "What?"

"You…drifted off," Lionel said, smiling almost sympathetically. "Are you all right?"

Nathan shook his head. "Yes, I am. Right…uh, I'll just…" he shook it off as he went up the steps leading up to the path that lead to the front door of the home.

He knew his old chauffer, who's been more like an old friend, was watching him. A part of him wondered if the older man had already figured out who the flowers were for, but Nathan didn't dare ask. The man knew all too well about Elise and how Nathan had loved her and still loved her. The man was sympathetic and always gave Nathan guidance, like an old uncle, but Nathan was still to anxious to talk about Elise and her new life.

Lionel would know what to do, having lost his wife, Irena, a few years back, but Nathan wanted to do this on his own. He was doing enough lying to Elise, he knew Lionel would not approve.

He would tell him to be honest, to be true, but Nathan knew that would not be enough to bring her back. It was weird, lying to her, but he was desperate…

Nathan wanted Elise to come home. He couldn't wait anymore.

Reaching the top of the porch, he smiled as he reached underneath a potted plant. His smile widened when he found a key.

_She was still Elise._

His heart leapt for joy, realizing the Elise he loved was still in there, somewhere. It gave him hope; it gave him something to hold on to.

Slipping the key into the lock, he entered the house. He looked around, but didn't touch or venture further in as he spotted a table near the front door. He laid the flowers down with the envelope then spotted the a small stack of sheets with a few reminders on them: _pay bills, buy eggs, kill House _and _call Mendrez._ Smiling, Nathan tore off the page underneath, scrawled a short message and left it next to the flowers, leaving the key on top.

Inhaling deeply and recognizing the scent of Jasmine, Nathan closed her eyes. He'd stood close enough to her that day to know _that _was her scent now.

She was still Elise, but in more ways, she was Lisa Cuddy now.

He didn't know who Lisa Cuddy was, but he knew he would love her just the same.

Nathan held on to hope.

Closing the door behind him, Nathan slipped back into the vehicle, watching the home as he left, the scent of Jasmine burned in his memory.

_Elise was coming home._

Nathan would make sure of it.

"Where to, sir?" Lionel asked, interrupting Nathan's thoughts.

"Back to the hotel, Lionel," Nathan said, leaning back. "Looks like we're going to be here for a little while, but we'll be home for Christmas."

Lionel nodded, glancing at him on the rearview mirror. "Very well, sir."

Nathan smiled to himself.

_He will be home for Christmas…with Elise._

-o0o-

The first thing Wilson noticed when he exited Exam Room 2 was Brenda Priven laughing as she talked to Cody Gomez. He rarely ever saw the woman laugh and for some reason, it intrigued him why. This woman was practically Cuddy number two, it piqued his interest with an undeniable itch to know what made the fiery brunette laugh.

The woman spent so much time scowling at House that Wilson wondered if he could count in one hand the number of times he'd actually see her smile genuinely.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Wilson said, smiling as he flipped open Mrs. Linda Hero's file, noting everything that went on in the Exam Room a few moments prior.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Wilson," the two said with a smile. He decided he should buy them lunch sometime soon again.

"So, what's the latest on the hospital grapevine today?" Wilson asked casually as he scribbled the last few of his notes on Mrs. Hero's file.

"Dr. Cuddy almost bludgeoned Dr. House today," Cody said as casually as Wilson had asked.

"That's nice," Wilson said absently as he noted Mrs. Hero's temperature that day was just a little off and how he had prescribed some medicine and sleep.

He kept writing for a few more seconds when he looked up and saw the two women watching him with amused looks on their faces. "Wait a minute, Cuddy did what?"

"She threw her paperweight at him," Cody repeated, her thumb pointing at the exiting janitor holding a bag. "Shattered her pretty paperweight to pieces."

"Too bad she missed," Brenda mused, head cocked to the side as she scribbled notes on another patient file. "Funny, I never knew she _could _miss."

Cody grinned. "She's no murderer, I'm sure it was a warning shot."

"You're serious," Wilson asked, Mrs. Hero's file completely forgotten now.

Brenda grinned. "Yes, damn…too bad I missed it." She chuckled. "I would have paid big money to see that one."

Wilson shook his head, "Wow." He scratched the side of his head. "Why?"

Cody frowned. "Don't know, but when—" she stopped and looked around, making sure the other nurses were occupied. She leaned closer to Wilson. "But when I went in, she was crying."

Brenda's eyebrows shot up. "What? Lisa Cuddy, crying—as in with tears and everything?"

Cody nodded. "I asked her, but she said she was okay…"

"What did House do this time?" Wilson asked, sighing deeply.

"She said it wasn't Dr. House," Cody said, shrugging.

Brenda snorted. "Ha! In all her years in this hospital, I can tell you, I've only ever seen that woman cry twice and that was over a practically paralyzed patient when she cured him." She stopped. "And that wasn't even crying-crying…more like a slow descent of touched tears."

She shook her head. "The second time was House in withdrawal, she was trying to save this patient, a little girl, but the patient's temperature spiked so high she had go into the shower with her, full blast, arctic cold."

"What happened?" Cody asked.

"House came in, pissed and jonesing for narcotics, allegedly drowning in pain," she scoffed. "And screamed at Cuddy that it was a good thing she failed to have a baby because she sucked at it."

Wilson winced while Cody almost gasped. "Seriously?"

"House being House," Brenda shook her head. "It's amazing she's only tried to kill him now. How is Dr. Cuddy now?"

"He's such an ass," Cody shrugged. "She said she was fine now."

Wilson shook his head. "I'm clocking out for now, I'll do the rest of my hours…tomorrow." He tucked his pen in his coat pocket. "I need to talk to House."

Brenda glanced at Cody who shrugged. "All right."

"Page me if you're backed up," Wilson said as he began to leave.

Slipping out of the near empty Clinic, the Oncologist made a beeline for the elevators.

The only other times he'd ever seen Lisa Cuddy cry indeed when that patient came in, the same time House clocked Chase on the jaw—everything had almost been ruined that day: House's career, the little girl's life, Chase's loyalty, Wilson's faith in House, Cuddy's hopes and dreams.

So many things had been at stake that day, in the middle of it all, a life of a child.

He was sure his Vicodin-addicted friend had something to do with it and this time, Wilson was decided—he would make House talk then, maybe, if Hell freezes over, make him apologize.

He was sick of watching Cuddy sad.

Stepping into the floor with his and House's offices, Wilson shook his head, steeling himself, as he made his way to the diagnostic office.

House was facing some sort of feelings regarding Cuddy whether he liked it or not.

Wilson noted the dimmed main office, which meant House was in no snarky mood. He was most probably sleeping or brooding, which gave Wilson the possibility of earning another rare victory—he was going to browbeat House…maybe.

Taking a deep breath, Wilson pushed the door wide open.

"House."

"Wilson."

"What the hell did you do this time?"

-o0o0o0o0o-

Well, again, this one sucked…

Anyway, I hope nobody minds that I've run up **8 **chapters while the day isn't even over yet. I know it can be annoying if you think this story is running on the slow side. Please, let me know and I'll make some arrangements to make it better for everyone.

Is it too dragging? Let me know!

And what do you think about Nathan pulling a House? And who was on the phone? Guess away…and yes, you can ask who Tim is…Oh, guess when you review, please? Pretty, pretty please. Theories are so fun to read!

I tried and I hope the ducklings 2.0 were in character enough…Wilson was absent, he'll be back-back, hopefully with the P.I.—he's still an enigma, ever like House, I'm trying to write him in character…ugh.

Oh, well…Hee, as always, review.

_That's What You Get _by _Paramore_

_**And who is effing excited about ep 99 and then 100? I know I am! Woohoo…100 and still kicking ass, congratulations to the best show on TV…Oh, and **__**who had a mini-stroke now that it's been confirmed that we will be seeing some Huddy-s*x?**__** Hot. This OTP truly brings out the pervert in me.**_

I plead and beg for forgiveness to those who don't like spoilers and accidentally find them on my scattered a/n's…I am really sorry if I ever spoil things for anyone. I was being an idiot, it happens a lot, unfortunately.


	10. Chapter 9: Stop and Stare

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Even though I've gone way past the Christmas episode of season five, _Joy to the World_, I've changed the timeline, placing the baby story a few weeks _away _from Christmas. In my story …to give me and my twisty story time so I hope it doesn't get confusing.

Trust me…these two weeks are going to be the longest two weeks ever, ending in the beginning of a very different New Year. I'm tempted to make a sequel, after this, because I have a feeling you'll be begging for the sequel…

Anywhoo, moving on.

Note: Thank you for the reviews! Okay. Truth time, I've been feeling frustrated with myself for stretching one day with eight chapters and I have a huge, throbbing, nagging feeling that you guys feel the same way too so we're going a wee bit faster then, upping the pace. Having said that, I think you should know: you'll be meeting Tim _before _Elliot (next chapters) after all. Should be fun, eh?

Chapter Nine: Stop and Stare

Void of any traces of tears and her office impeccably clean once more, free of potentially dangerous pieces of broken glass, Cuddy sat with her mobile phone in one hand, a pen in the other. She'd kept herself busy, scheduling everyone's shift for the last three weeks of the year.

This year, she had double the number of Candy Stripers who applied to volunteer this December, which of course, was a good thing. Most of them were eager teenagers that Cuddy had originally thought to be extinct already. It was always nice to have the lonelier patients have someone to interact with a few times a day. She scheduled more of them for the few days before Christmas, knowing it was one of the loneliest times of year.

On Christmas, however, it was completely voluntary. It was their choice whether they were going to work and visit patients or not. Truth be told, even Cuddy was reluctant to visit patients around that particular time, knowing it would sadden her even more, based on her own current situation.

It was one of the reasons why she worked on Christmas, which was easier when all she had to do was make rounds, not actually stay and lament with the lonely patients. Visiting was different from working, at least, to her.

It was a lame excuse but it's worked for a while now and she'd been fine, so far.

Cody had handed in the Diagnostic team's schedule for their vacations, all of them scheduled alternately amongst themselves. Lawrence Kutner had scheduled for the few days before Christmas, Chris Taub wanted Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve, Remy Hadley and Eric Foreman had noted they were not taking their vacations and instead will be aiming sometime around after the New Year.

All of it was fine with Cuddy, until she saw an application for Greg House.

She immediately recognized Foreman's clear, bold handwriting, penned down in black ink with House's request for leave on Christmas Eve and the following three days after, followed by the note that he will be on call, probably as a bargaining chip.

She guesses that's all Foreman's doing.

But it didn't matter now that she was left wondering _why_ all of a sudden Greg House wanted a three-day vacation _with _permission as early as two weeks. Vaguely, despite recent events, she hoped everything was okay with him.

It crossed her mind that maybe he just wanted a vacation, but the cynical side of her that House himself helped her grow, told her otherwise.

Seeing Dr. Nicholas Robin, a member of the Radiology team, was still unscheduled, Cuddy decided to finish the schedules and forget House, reawakening once more the anger she'd been feeling lately. It helped greatly, stopping her from thinking about him and the rest of the chaos that threatened to break her world.

Work, work, work—it was exactly what she needed to take her mind off things.

For the first time since ever, Cuddy found herself looking forward to finishing her year-end report for the board in the coming year-end meeting. It would keep her busy, especially the Diagnostic Department's history of lawsuits and budget report for two-thousand-eight.

Shaking her head, Cuddy scheduled all the Diagnostic team's names on the schedules, thankful that once more, Foreman was in for Christmas Eve and as well as Thirteen, giving her two more people for the usually short handed night.

One thing Cuddy always hated doing each year was asking some doctors to give up their Christmas Eves and Mornings. She knew they had families and usually felt terrible if she had to snatch one of the away for such a special time away from their wives, husbands and children.

On a post-it, Cuddy scribbled the memo she needed Cody to type up, an announcement that this year, instead of holding it in the lobby, the Christmas party would be moved to the Clinic. She would turn the nurses' station in the bar, complete with food and drinks, Exam Rooms One and Two for general use and the rest, available should a patient come in.

They usually had the party in the lobby, but this year, Cuddy needed a clean, open lobby. Last year, Dr. Angus Fletcher, former Head of Dermatology, had passed out in the main lobby. Mr. and Mrs. Adrian and Gill Penn, one of the biggest donors of the hospital, had walked in and seen the unconscious man, thankfully in civilian wear, next to the Christmas Nativity display.

Cuddy had to make some ridiculous story about him being a patient, thankful his face had been obscured by the blanket he had most probably yanked from baby Jesus in the manger. The husband and wife had taken the story, nodding sympathetically while Cuddy motioned for the nurses to tend to the man.

This year, Cuddy was playing safe. If anyone wanted to pass out, they could do it in the Exam Rooms or behind the nurses' station.

Though it would be a miracle if anyone would dare to since Dr. Fletcher had gotten an early morning dressing down after the Penn's headed to the Pediatrics Wing to look at the Christmas babies, having had no kids of their own still. The man had been hungover and had faced furious, post-Christmas, endangered donations Lisa Cuddy.

Her screeching could be heard a few feet into the Clinic and the nurses had wisely stayed away.

After that memo, Cuddy noted also that the budget committee had approved of the budget Cuddy pushed for each year—gifts for the little children in the Pediatrics ward. Each year, Cuddy made sure to have a Santa Claus come in with a red bag full of beautiful, shiny, fun toys, each of them labeled with the child's name.

Each year, Cuddy watched, seeing the joys on their faces, always reveling having seen a happy gap-toothed smile on a face of a patient's face. Last year, little Sherry Holloway, a seven-year-old patient with leukemia had received a Stitch doll, the alien/dog from the cartoon Lilo and Stitch, a toy she'd told Cuddy in whispered secrecy what she wanted for Christmas but didn't dare ask her parents, knowing they'd been spending enough on her hospital bills.

Little Sherry had been young, but insightful, ever aware of her world.

Upon receiving the gift with glee, Sherry had turned the doll over, hugging the blue alien to her happily then moved towards Cuddy.

Smiling with one of her front teeth missing, she'd hugged Cuddy around the waist with a whispered thank you, telling her it was the best Christmas present ever.

And Cuddy hugged her back, blinking back her tears, touched by the innocence of such a beautiful child, happy with the knowledge that, if only for a moment, she'd made her happy.

That had been a year ago and now, eight-year-old Sherry was in London with her parents, better than ever. Every month, a letter with colorful stickers, pictures and tales of grade school arrived in the mail for Cuddy, all from Sherry.

Sometimes, she sent pictures of her and Stitch, smiling happily with all of her teeth now.

Visiting the Pediatrics Ward with Santa Claus was one of the few things she looked forward to each year and this year was going to be no different.

Aiming to write another note, she cursed under her breath when the pen stopped working.

Pulling out the top drawer of her desk where her monogrammed Mont Blanc was kept, she realized once more that the new desk she had ordered hadn't arrived yet and she pushed back any thoughts of the man who had pulled her Med School desk out of _her _storage space. She wouldn't dare think about it, but the thought of House finding that storage space and finding the name in which the space was signed by…she didn't dare think about it.

Cuddy knew it had taken him a while. She knew it probably took Lucas Douglas finding it, but she hoped to God not. That space didn't hold much except for her old things from Michigan, but the _name _used as the owner was…tricky.

But she was glad she came up with a wise decision when she moved to Princeton, putting the storage name in a more…elaborate one than her own mother's.

It would have gotten the puzzle-hungry doctor and she would have been in a _lot _of trouble.

Shaking her head and feeling the stress of everything coming at her like an unstoppable bullet train, Cuddy felt the pangs of anxiety gnaw at her.

_Breathe in, breathe out…_

She needed help.

_Breathe in, out, in, out…_

Her head was beginning to hurt again, she needed help.

_In, out, in, out, in…_

She definitely needed help.

_Fast._

With shaking fingers, she grabbed on to her cell phone, latching on immediately and her fingers searching for the right name and number. Last name under T, first name starting with A, business written in blank and addresses written simply in _New York, Greece _and _London_.

Vague details saying absolutely nothing about the individual though it didn't matter because Cuddy knew _everything _about the person from the inside out, knowing everything from the physical, emotional and _psychotic_ details. If there was one person she knew, _this _was it.

Three rings, four, then five, she hoped it would pick up, knowing that by the seventh she'd be sent to voicemail and voicemail was _not _what she needed right now.

She needed someone to talk to.

Talk to without holding anything back, without hiding, without pretending.

She needed to talk to someone who she could be both Lisa and Elise to without explaining.

Six then seven…

"_Tell me you're worth waking up with a massive bitch hangover for or I am hanging up."_

"Tim."

"_Lee?"_

"Uhuh…" Cuddy mumbled uncharacteristically, her fingers immediately latching on to the pearls around her neck. "Can we talk, please? I…I need you."

_Breathe in, breathe out._

-o0o-

"What the hell did you do this time?"

House looked up, damaged leg comfortably elevated, other feet flat on the floor. "Cuddy…is hiding something."

Wilson crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, okay. What did you do?"

"Nothing," House defended weakly, obviously still brooding. "She tried to kill me."

"Yes, I know," Wilson said, maintaining his stoic stance. "And it's not nothing. You made her cry."

House's eyes widened, curious, "I didn't."

"You did," Wilson pressed. "Cody found her crying in her office."

House shook his head. "I didn't do anything, but there's something."

"No," Wilson said, shaking his head. "No riddles, no puzzles, no _nothing_, House." Wilson shook his head. "Just…leave her alone, okay? For once, House, don't-don't antagonize her."

"Why?" House asked, frowning. "Why does it always have to be _me_? She's hiding something, I'm trying to figure it out. _If _she cried, it wasn't me, though God knows what she has to cry about—the ass, sass, the cushy lifestyle, a too-high paying job...yeah, cry me a river."

Wilson sighed. "House, please, she's tired, she's busy and she needs to work. It's nearing Christmas, and after everything she's been through these past few weeks, she deserves a break."

House frowned deeper, remembering the Crack-mother and her Crack-baby that almost made Cuddy move heaven and hell to save. "Right, it's always me, huh?"

Wilson thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Fine," House mumbled. "But she _is _hiding something. I'm going to figure it out."

He grabbed his cane and threw his ball onto his table. Wilson watched him, confused.

"But you just said—"

"I agreed to give her a break, but I didn't agree on quitting about finding out her secret," House said over his shoulder.

"House!"

"Don't follow me! I am _not _having sex with you! I'm straight!"

-o0o-

Kutner stood in the Pathology lab in front of a microscope next to Taub who was busy writing his findings on the chart. "Negative. It's not Staph Infection."

Taub looked up, "And it's probably not Lyme Disease."

"Do you really think Cuddy threw her paperweight at House?" Kutner asked.

"Yes," Taub said with no hesitation. "And honestly, it's about time. He's been pushing her for so long, she's bound to crack."

Kutner smirked. "Cuddy cracking? Don't think so. She's tough."

"How tough when it's House you're facing?" Taub pointed out. "It's House, as long as you're alive and able, he'll keep pushing and pushing and pushing. Hell, Cuddy could be on her death bed and I think he'll still push her buttons."

"You think House can break Cuddy?" Kutner asked, eyebrow raised.

"You think he hasn't yet?" Taub looked at him squarely. "If he wants to, yes I _know _he can."

"She's not exactly weak," Kutner, frowning a little, "She's the Dean of Medicine, _she _hired _him_…I'm sure she knew what she was getting into when she did that."

"Maybe, maybe not," Taub said, shrugging.

"Did you know they knew each other in college?"

Taub's eyes showed curiosity. "Really?"

_There's always an inner gossip, in all of us, girls and boys alike._

For the past few weeks, they've been trying to figure out the relationship between House and Cuddy, initially thinking that maybe there _was _something more to the whole boss-employee thing they were displaying. The chemistry, the tension—it was there. No one really believed they were in a "relationship" since this was Greg House, but it was possible they were sleeping together.

But then again, of course, this was Lisa Cuddy, which pretty much killed the thought of her playing 'friends with benefits' with the Diagnostician.

_Or anyone else._

There was a snag both ways so they were still speculating…diagnosing.

Yes, they were diagnosing their boss's boss and boss.

"Yeah," Kutner grinned. "Heard it from Cameron. Turns out, a few years back there was this little drama about Cuddy's handyman and while they were searching the handyman's house, Cameron asked Cuddy how she knew House."

"Brave," Taub commented. "Questioning Lisa Cuddy…"

Not that he was scared of her, of course.

_Of course not…_

Kutner nodded. "Cuddy said she knew House as an undergrad and check it out, by then, still in Med School, House was already a legend. They met in Michigan. She graduated in UMich and so did he, but they were a few years apart. He's…six or seven years older than her."

Taub smirked. "Legend in Med School, would you expect anything less?"

Kutner didn't reply as he went on divulging information. "It's no surprise he was famous in Michigan—he did land there _after _getting kicked out of Hopkins."

"I heard he cheated," Taub smirked.

"Yeah, but I also heard from the nurses he kicked the guy's ass _here _a few years ago."

"How?" Taub asked. "And how the hell do you find out stuff like this?"

Kutner grinned. "People like to talk and _I'm _charming."

Taub shook his head. "So, how'd he kick the guy's ass?"

"Guy was marketing this anti-migraine drug thing, House proved it was bogus." Kutner smiled. "It was cool, actually. Tried the drug then injected himself with Nitroglycerin, inducing a migraine and suffered through it. Sent an email, Clinical Trial went bye-bye."

"Very House-like," Taub nodded. "Don't doubt he did all that—inducing a migraine."

"You think they dated in college?"

"The guy and House? No," Taub deadpanned.

"No," Kutner frowned again. "House and Cuddy…do you think…?"

Taub shrugged. "Who knows? How old would they have been? Say Cuddy was eighteen or nineteen maybe—House would be between twenty five and six, he'd be just about leaving Med School. You think they had time?"

Kutner thought for a moment. "Hm…and undergrad and a legend? It is possible."

Taub shrugged. "We'll never really know unless we ask him or her. You wanna do that?"

Kutner thought for a moment. "No."

Basically, they both scared him.

"I thought so," Taub said. "Now, let's go and cross out Staph Infection on the board with the Green pen and tell House, Gossip Queen, and maybe you'll pick up some old college tales."

"Bet you Cuddy was hot in college," Kutner grinned.

"Have you _seen_ her?" Taub quipped as they left the lab together.

Kutner grinned. "Can't really blame House for objectifying, huh?"

"Yup."

-o0o-

House leaned back against the examination table of Exam Room Three, his cane dangling from his long fingers, his other hand cradling the back of his neck as he stared off into space, lost in thought. He was diagnosing, not his patient, but his boss. Symptoms, possibilities, theories and ideas bouncing off and up inside his mind.

He remembered when he had called all the possible storage companies in New Jersey, calling first the ones in the immediate areas, nearest to the hospital and where she lived. On the fourth call, he'd landed on one, a few miles away from her house, an old storage area.

He'd asked for a customer with the last name 'Cuddy' and hit a jackpot when Rebecca Crane, a chatty lady who was obviously old, quite clearly described the beautiful lady who leased storage the area: polite with dark hair, pretty eyes and a beautiful smile.

House had jumped on to the description, throwing in some cock and bull about surprising his fiancée about her desk, intending on reliving their old days in college, where they'd met. Of course, it wasn't a complete lie. He did meet her in college, he just lied about being engaged.

Halfway in, halfway out—he figured he couldn't get a better deal than that.

Becky, joyous and boisterous, was giddy about the idea of helping put into gear such a romantic gesture, _"you Romeos have slowly dwindled down in numbers, she's a lucky lady! My Charles was the same as you, yes he was!"_ She had promptly given the name of the woman:

_Ileana Cuddy_

And for a moment, House had stumbled, wondering whose name that was and he asked who the woman was or if she had listed a 'Lisa Cuddy' somewhere as a contact.

Shuffling of papers, some mutterings, a soft meow in the background and then, _"Oh, yes, here it is. Lisa Cuddy—her daughter…and now that I recall, I think I did speak to Lisa. Her mother, I think, rented this space for her."_

And House had sighed dramatically, claiming that was his fiancée, _Lisa Cuddy_.

Getting the address, a few more girlish squeals, another lie or ten about 'how' he was going to play out his little romantic night with her, reenacting a 'special moment' from their past, he had her swooning and sighing and quite giddily giving out the address and a time to meet so he could take out the desk.

It took time, a schedule with a professional to restore her table to its former glory as payment for losing in a game of poker, House had the desk again and in time had it delivered to her newly furnished office.

It took a lot, but then, he'd thought it was a good gesture, thinking it would appease her after everything that had happened between them.

He'd been wrong. She was getting a new desk, she was mad at him, she was avoiding and she had been crying.

_Why?_

Cuddy, he knew, was exactly the type of girl to like gestures like that, it was practical, very House-like, genuine and rare—she might not seem like that type, but she was. At least, _once upon a time_, she had been.

Letting his mind wander away from his diagnosing, he let himself go back, revisiting old memories that had long ago passed, memories he'd rarely visit, but never forgot.

_It was the damned rain again, raining in Ann Arbor, Michigan, raining all over the campus and twenty-four year old Greg House was stuck in the library, having not gotten out before it started to pour. He hadn't expected it to, it was cold, sure, but no one said anything about rain._

_He didn't have a jacket and he'd be damned before he carries an umbrella._

_He'd run in the rain, sure, but he had a book with him that he'd been reading. It was his, something he'd bought off an idiot who needed money, not knowing that the book cost more than the ten bucks he'd charged for it. It was an old book on Anatomy, an original print, a rare copy._

_It wasn't his fault the idiot was an idiot._

_He didn't want to damage his good buy with the stupid rain. Pfft!_

_Standing by the doors, book tucked protectively, he waited for the rain to stop, cursing it under his breath, wanting to be back in his apartment already. It was past five already, he's spent half the day reading the book in the library when Tony, his roommate, wouldn't stop making noises. He needed the quiet._

_By four-thirty he knew Tony would have left the apartment to go see his girlfriend of the month, Tracy Sharp, a beautiful blonde with pale blue eyes who was a cheerleader. By Tony's accounts, she was adventurous in bed, one time bringing her pom-poms with her while wearing her uniform and tied him by her bed posts while she gave him a private show, doing him as she chanted the latest routine._

_Lame shit. House found it boring, but hey, whatever got Tony's boat running, he could care less._

_Muttering another curse, damning the weather, he leaned against the old wooden doorframes, book still tucked in safely. He was too busy hating the rain to notice the doors being pulled open and an umbrella springing out._

"_Hey!" he cried, jumping back, teetering dangerously on the step as he avoided the umbrella._

"_Oh, shit!" he heard a female voice cry._

"_Get that out of my face!" he batted at the umbrella._

_Immediately the owner pulled her umbrella back, lifting it above her head though they were still protected by the small shed-like covers of the front doors and a few of the steps._

"_I'm so sorry," he heard her say though he was too busy trying to get his balance back, book held in hand. "You okay?"_

"_Peachy," he muttered. First rain, now this, almost getting stabbed by an idiot with an umbrella…this was not his day._

"_Hey, I said I was sorry, no need to be sarcastic."_

_He looked up, his eyes immediately meeting a pair of stormy blue ones, almost the same unique shade as the ones up over the University that day. "Gee, sorry, usually I get giddy when someone whacks me with an umbrella."_

_He'd expected her to huff and walk away, maybe insult him or call him an ass, but instead, she smirked at him, the corners of her mouth curling up. "And apparently getting stranded with a rare copy of Gustav Hemming's Human Anatomy without protection gets you giddy too."_

_He looked down at the book in his hand. The back was showing, not one sign or anything indicating what the book was by the old Physician's or that it was anything but ordinary. "You a med student? Or a librarian?"_

_Though by the way she looked, he didn't think she was the latter._

"_Librarian? You're kidding me, right? But if you're asking if I'm going to be a doctor, yeah," she shrugged. "I'm an undergrad."_

_He eyed her look—a short skirt revealing a pair of sexy, toned legs, a tight top obviously indicating she was well-endowed, boots and a leather jacket—not your everyday look for a future doctor. He smirked. "Seriously?"_

_She looked down, glancing at her outfit. "Yeah. What's it to you?"_

_He shrugged. "Nothing, it's just that I rarely ever see any fuckable undergrads who want to be a med student around here. You lot are so serious about getting in and getting respect from your future peers, you act like nuns, it's sad."_

_He expected her to be offended, but again, he was wrong. "Just because I wanna save lives, doesn't mean I gotta look like shit."_

_He smirked. "What's your name?"_

"_Greg House."_

"_Funny," he said, grinning. "My mother named me that too."_

"_Good, then, you won't forget," she smirked, her eyes challenging him, delighting him. She took the first step down, umbrella kept safely away from him. "See you around."_

_She started to walk away, but he wasn't letting her go without a name. "Hey!"_

"_What?" she didn't turn around._

"_What's your name, really?"_

_The umbrella shifted aside and she looked back at him with a wicked smile over her shoulder that gave him a hot rush down south. God, she had a naughty face. "Lisa."_

"_Lisa what?"_

"_Just Lisa," she turned away, leaving him on the steps. "For now."_

"_For now?"_

"_Next time, if you're nicer, you might get more than Lisa," she winked._

_If it had been anyone else, the wink would have been corny and stupid to him, but seeing her do that…it was a turn on._

"_Aren't you going to offer to walk with you and your umbrella?" he asked, hopeful and teasing. "Since you're not giving me anything more than just Lisa and all, maybe I'll be nicer now then I can get your last name."_

"_No. See ya."_

_She left him, standing there, stranded still with Gustav, only this time, staring after her. He stood where he'd been standing previously only this time, something had changed._

_He was smiling._

Three weeks after that encounter, he had all the basic information he needed about the spunky undergrad with the eyes, legs, and, _by God_, that smile.

House had found out from Donald Ash, a working student from the Admissions Office where the records were kept. He'd bribed the kid with weed and twenty dollars, wondering all the while why he was spending so much on some mouthy undergrad who almost offed him with an umbrella.

He chalked it off to her breasts, remembering they looked quite nice under her top.

Donald had read through the file, the sneaky little mouse, and found out Lisa Cuddy was a seventeen-year-old girl from New York, who skipped one year in school and would have skipped another if her father had allowed it, stating he didn't want his daughter being pushed too far and being out of place having classmates two years older than her. Her eyes were blue, though House had thought they were stormy-blue, not that he expected anyone to be that specific in files. She was born May 21, height five feet and four inches; sadly her cup size weren't on record though House could probably make his own approximation.

Donald had not found out much except that she wanted to be a doctor, and from information he'd gathered around the grapevine, she was quite the party girl, popular and likeable. The interesting part for House was: Lisa Cuddy was also _adored _by her professors.

It intrigued House how a party girl undergrad managed to have her professors adore her. He'd checked her out, her grades were impeccable and her attendance was flawless. She even had a few of her professors, male ones, of course, wrapped around her finger.

House wanted to see _how _a she did it. Apparently, her professors were still unaware of her social life, though he wondered if it would matter anyway. To them, she was the model student. To the students, she was the model party girl.

To House, that was something worth seeing.

_She _was worth observing.

Two days after seeing her, he found himself looking for her around possible places for an undergrad to hang out in, even sticking around the Library where they had met. He had to divide his time—lacrosse came first, he was captain, then getting to classes that bored him but had to go to because attendance was a must in the University, which annoyed him, came second. Third was reading in his apartment, getting some alone time and snatching up the Medical Journals that came to the University, breaking in and stealing the extra copies.

After she came along, looking for her became fourth, when he couldn't find her, she moved to third, when he still couldn't find her, she became second.

But he didn't see her until another week. That was still clear to him, that second time he saw her. It was in the middle of the night, Gustav was in his bedside drawer with a lock, and it wasn't in or outside the library.

It was at a party, he was bored and she was beautiful still, dressed hotter, more fuckable and dancing around with a guy with wandering hands on the lobby-turned dance floor of one of the well-known Greek frat houses, Phi Gamma Rho.

House still remembered how he'd clenched his fists when he saw the idiot blonde frat boy grope her backside when he leaned down and whispered something in her ear.

Years later, present day, House's hands, unconsciously, balled into tight fists again.

-o0o-

"Looks like everything's clear," Thirteen said with a smile as Mariana Dune, their new patient, laid back down, sighing.

"You have _no _idea how it feels to not feel pain right now," she said, smiling. "I _love _drugs."

"Don't let other doctors hear you say that," Thirteen said, smiling. "They might write you off as a drug seeker and discharge you."

"Oh, god, no," Mariana groaned. "I missed my classes already, I haven't exercised or danced today," she let out a breath. "This stupid…whatever this is—it's cramping my lifestyle. Fix me?"

"We'll try," Thirteen said as she turned to leave the room. She looked around, "Where's your boyfriend? Uh, Aaron, was it?"

Mariana smiled. "A had to go see the kids. They'll wonder why I'm not meeting them today."

"Does he dance too?" Thirteen inquired.

"God, no," the dancer chuckled. "He's got two left feet!"

Thirteen's eyebrows rose. "So…you don't dance? The two of you?"

The woman shrugged. "We do, we sway; we love doing that. I love _being _with him. He's a sweet man. I love him more when he tries, that's enough."

The corner's of the doctor's mouth curled up in almost a smile, like she was stopping herself. "How's your knee?" she asked, lifting the sheet off the woman's body.

"Fine," she grimaced. "Hurt like hell and it was leaking a while back, but the nurses fixed that. They said it might be because my immune system is working on my joints."

"That's probably it," Thirteen nodded. She had long ago decided this was not Lyme disease so she let her mind run its own diagnosis. "Have you been feeling any muscle pain or weakness or fatigue lately?"

Marian chuckled. "I dance, I teach kids no older than ten who _love _sugar. They're adorable angels, but they can be little hell raisers at times so yes, I've been feeling those _forever_."

"Have any of the kids been sick lately?"

"Not that I know of, they don't miss classes."

Thirteen nodded. "That's all for now. I'll be back to see you later. Maybe we'll have answers then, okay, Marian?"

"Yes. Thank you, Dr. Hadley," the woman said as the doctor slipped out of the room, waving a little. "See you later."

Exiting the room, Thirteen found Kutner and Taub passing. "Hey," she said. "No target rash, nothing—it's not Lyme disease."

Taub nodded. "Tests returned negative. It's not Staph."

Kutner shook his head. "Back to the board…"

"Could be Vitamin C Deficiency," Taub said. "Why didn't we think of that in the first place?"

"Because it isn't?" Thirteen said, slowly.

"We're running a differential without House?" Kutner asked, eyebrows up.

"We're running a differential _on our way to see House_," Taub pointed out easily. "Why can't it be Vitamin C Deficiency?"

"No bleeding gums, no skin bruising or shortness of breath," Thirteen recited. "What about Vasculitis? She been feeling some muscle pain, but being a dancer, she chalked it off as normal. Weakness and fatigue could be counted in too."

"We'll need to run an MRI," Kutner said, nodding as they walked along. "Urine tests and maybe blood vessel biopsy, depending on what the MRI says."

Taub shook his head, "What about Coeliac Disease?"

"No symptoms," Thirteen blasted down swiftly. "Vasculitis makes more sense than Coeliac."

"What about Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia?" Kutner suggested. "It's incredibly rare for adults, but it's not unheard of."

"ALL? You think she has Leukemia?" Taub asked, leaning sideways to look at him as they walked with Thirteen in the middle.

"Maybe," Kutner said. "It fits."

Thirteen nodded. "So, we have ALL and Vasculitis. What else fits?"

"Fibromyalgia," Taub said. "It's a stretch, but it fits."

Thirteen nodded, "Three diagnoses…we'll see what House thinks."

Taking a few turns, they found themselves back into the conference area of the Diagnostic's office only to find it empty. Thirteen looked around, "Where is he?"

Kutner looked around. "Maybe we should page him."

Taub smirked. "Like he'd ever answer."

"Just tell him what we know after the tests," Thirteen said. "I'll call Foreman."

Kutner paged House while Thirteen called Foreman. Taub moved to the board and crossed out _Staph Infection _and again, _Lyme Disease_ in black pen. Moving on, he wrote the three possibilities they'd come up with.

_Vasculitis_

_Fibromyalgia_

_ALL_

They just needed to wait. House had a patient, he was bound to show up sometime.

-o0o-

The loud beeping of his pager startled House awake, pulling him back from the memories he'd let himself drown in for the moment. Heart racing just a little, he reached for his pager to find his little ducklings paging him about his patient. Next, his phone followed with his loud, obnoxious ring tone, _"Whataman, whataman…"_

He rejected the call and grumbled when a text followed, telling him the first two diagnoses they'd done were wrong, but they had more ideas. Frowning, her pushed his phone back into his pocket and clipped his pager back into place.

These new bunch of fellows he had were more independent than the last, living in lesser fear of him than he'd like, more outspoken and definitely with more balls.

With his old team, he had Chase who was always there to please him, Cameron who was the pseudo moral-center of the group and ever the faithful lovelorn doe-eyed pretty thing who did his ego wonders for a while and Foreman, the one he remembers calling_ stupid whore_, was the anti-House who was now Cuddy's, for lack of a better word, _not that House cared_, bitch_._

His new breed of fellows now is more independent, more defiant. Thirteen was smart and daring, Taub believed he was a thinking individual and Kutner was the type who was easily contented and happy, but was willing to fight for the right thing, occasionally he was an ass-kisser, but Chase was even better at that thing.

Leaning back, House closed his eyes again. They would figure it out on their own while daddy got some alone time. If they were as smart as he thinks they are, they'd find him.

_Eventually…_

Right now, he was taking a little trip.

_Laughingly, she twirled as Beau Tyler led her around the dance floor, spinning her easily as the music throbbed. He watched, from his corner as she spun back, still laughing, and continued to dance, appearing not to care as her partner made a grab of her backside again._

_He knew she didn't have a boyfriend and he knew this guy was _older _than her._

_He knew the schmuck and she was only seventeen for crying out loud. For some odd reason that pissed him off, he didn't know why it bothered him that she was so…free when she was actually sort of young._

_He commended her father for holding her back from skipping another year._

_He watched, his fists still clenched tight, as Beau pulled her closer, pressing her hips to his, not minding she was tiny compared to him._

_She laughed again, throwing her head back as she playfully pushed him away, swinging her hips, silently telling him not to try anymore. She was just dancing._

_But, of course, he pulled her back again, this time, rubbing himself against her, latching on to her hips and grinding hard. The laughter died from her lips, her smile fell a little and she pushed him lightly back again._

_Beau leaned down, whispered in her ear then pulled back to see her reaction._

_She stopped moving then shook her head at him. He frowned then she smiled a small smile, telling him something apparently and looking quite sorry._

_He said something then pulled her back to him, pressing his hips at her again, as if that would change her mind._

_But she shook her head again, her hand landing on his cheek, but he still frowned._

_She backed up, as if to leave, but he'd hurry on to her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer._

_She tried to pull back, but he just talked more, leaning down, maybe to be heard over the music._

_He saw the look of anger in her eyes, he'd never seen it, but he knew what it was. She pulled back, Beau pulled back in retaliation, as if her arm was a rope in a game of tug of war._

_That's when House decided it felt like a good time to dance._

"_Hey, may I cut in?"_

_They both looked up, Lisa with her eyes wide, the idiot with a scowl._

"_No," he snapped. "Now leave us alone."_

"_Greg," Lisa said, smiling a little._

"_You know him?" the idiot asked, scowling further._

"_You're Beau Tyler, right?" House said instead of acknowledging the girl._

"_What's it to you?" _

"_Saw you at try outs," House said easily. "Lacrosse?"_

_The University of Michigan was currently one of the top Lacrosse teams of the state, Greg House was the assistant coach and captain. Beau Tyler was rich as sin, dumb as a pinhead and sucked at Lacrosse—he was pushing to be on the team._

"_Wait," Beau said, eyes wide. "Greg House?"_

_He smirked._

"_Oh, man, sorry," Beau groaned. "I was…well, I _am _a bit drunk…dude, sorry. I was at try outs!"_

_House nodded. "Yeah, I saw."_

_Beau grinned, apparently thinking it was a good thing he'd been seen. He didn't know House only remembered him because he'd smacked his teammate's face with his stick at the try outs, accidentally of course._

_House labeled him accidentally stupid, but he didn't have to know that._

_Yet._

"_Cool," Beau said, dropping Lisa's hand easily. "Uh, welcome to the Phi Gamma Rho, House. I've never seen you around here."_

"_Actually," House said, smiling. "I was just picking up a friend."_

"_Oh, really?" Beau asked. "Anyone I know?"_

_House looked at Lisa who was staring at him. "Lisa."_

"_Greg."_

_He took her hand in his. "Sorry, took a while, babe. Got a bit held up."_

_She smiled, catching on immediately. "It's fine. Beau was just showing me around."_

_Beau looked from House to Lisa then back again. "Uh, she's…uh, she's with you?"_

_House smiled and gently tugged Lisa to him, pulling her completely away from the idiot. His arm slipped around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I was supposed to pick her up, but you know; things happen."_

_Beau nodded. "Right. Well, I was just—we were just, you know, dancing."_

_House looked down at Lisa who smiled. "Yeah."_

_Beau shoved his hands in his pocket. "Well, it was great seeing you…I'll see you on the field, maybe?"_

_House grinned. "Definitely."_

_Beau beamed. "Cool."_

_Without a glance at Lisa, he stalked off happily, apparently having forgotten about her already._

_House looked at Lisa who was staring at him. He shook his head, "Come on," he muttered as he pulled her off the dance floor._

_Wordlessly, she followed him until they were outside the frat house._

"_Why?" was all she said as he began to pull her away from the house completely._

"_Why what?" he asked, not looking at her as he walked, practically dragging her with his fast pace and big strides._

"_Why'd you do that? I can take care of myself."_

_He snorted. "He was grabbing your ass and practically humped you on the dance floor. You call that taking care of myself."_

"_I was warning him," she defended. "I would have done something if he went on."_

"_Yes, because he looked like he was about to stop," he mumbled. "I could see his boner from nine feet away, Cuddy."_

"_Shut up," she snapped and began to pull her hand away from his. "Let go, where are we going?"_

"_Nowhere," he said and stopped walking._

"_I wasn't gonna sleep with him," she said as she too stopped, in front of him. "I don't…do that."_

_He smirked, "Hard to believe with the way you dance."_

"_I dance, I have fun, I don't fuck strangers," she sneered._

"_Okay, whatever you say Cuddles."_

"_How'd you know?" she asked, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "My last name?"_

"_I know how to make people talk."_

"_I'm sure you do," she smirked. "You didn't answer my question. Why'd you do it?"_

_He shrugged. "I'm just your Romeo."_

"_I don't need a Romeo," she said._

"_Then I'm just a guy."_

"_Who wants to grab my ass too?"_

"_That would be nice," he grinned. "But I wouldn't do it like that, I'd rather do other things"_

"_Oh, you're a pervert too, lucky night."_

"_I'm not," he smiled. "I just know how to appreciate beauty."_

_She snorted. "Whatever. I'm going home."_

"_Where do you live?"_

"_I got an apartment in the University grounds, you?"_

_He shrugged. "Same, but I have a roommate. It's not that far from here."_

"_Are you asking me to go to your place?" she asked, coyly._

_It amazed him how she could switch moods so easily without looking like a tart or a ditz._

"_Not really," he shrugged. "I'm just asking if you want to crash at my place instead of going home alone in your pretty little girly apartment."_

_She grinned. "I'm going home. I like walking."_

"_Alone?"_

"_Probably."_

_He rolled his eyes. "I'll walk with you. I'm itching for a sleepover."_

_She laughed and turned around, walking the opposite direction. "Then come on, Greg House."_

_He smiled, following after her. "Coming, Lisa Cuddy."_

_They walked then she looked up. "Is Beau Tyler really going to be in the Lacrosse team?"_

"_No," he'd made up his mind a long time ago. The guy had the best gears money could buy, but nobody can buy talent. "He sucks."_

_Eyes wide, "But he just said 'see you at the field' and you said yes!"_

_He chuckled. "I said 'definitely', but yeah, so? I was telling the truth."_

_She frowned, "You just said he's not going to be a player."_

_He grinned. "He asked if he'll see me on the field and I confirmed. We're playing next week and if he's coming to watch then yeah, he'll see me."_

"_That's not what he meant and you know it."_

"_No, not really, no," he said, feigning stupidity marvelously._

"_You're unbelievable."_

"_Thank you."_

"_That was not a compliment."_

"_I'm taking it as one, sue me."_

_She sighed, "Thank you…for what you did."_

"_Yeah," he shrugged. "You look hot by the way."_

"_Thanks," she smiled at him._

God…he was starting to love that smile.

"_Very fuckable."_

_She kicked him on the shin hard._

"_Ow! It was a compliment!"_

"_You're a dick!"_

_She stormed off, but he followed her, silently, until she arrived at her apartment, slamming her front door. "Goodnight, Cuddles!" he bellowed obnoxiously, limping._

_The next day, he had a pretty blueish-violet bruise._

_And he was smiling._

-o0o0o0o0o-

Not really liking this post *cough cough _'sucks!'_* but it'll get better, promise, once a few of the new players actually come out to finally play!

I was going to update before the 100th ep, but my line got cut off. I haven't even watched the ep yet, I've been going all exorcist over it! But I wanted to post first before doing so, I hope you guys like it! And the Huddy memories too…sorry if they're not as good.

Based on reviews, I am loving your opinions on Nathan! And the guess(es) over Tim.

**Good news/Spoilers**:

The next chap, day 2 and you'll probably meet Tim by then, I'll be updating sooner, promise. I've just need to edit it so…just review and if you do, I'll post it, okay? I'm bargaining, which is kind of sad, but I enjoy reviews! Hope you understand. You'll see about Tim and then how this affects the whole Nathan business.

_kakashifangrl1012 - - - I love that you liked the Paramore song! Love that…and I agree about Kutner, I'm sorry if he came off really dumb here. I actually think he's really smart, even when I first saw him on season 4. I'll write him better next time, promise! *grin* I saw Huddy kill vid—it was awesome! Thanks for the heads up!_

I love reading how you all see Nathan and what you think of him. Some of your opinions surprised me and made me laugh! I especially loved, _"I can't believe beautiful Nathan is a liar!"_ That made me laugh so much! Anyway, he'll be back, soon and you're going to find out what's going on.

I know it's dragging, but would you forgive me if I told you it's completely worth it? Well, at least, I think it is…

Anyway, forgive me for posting so late! Next one will come faster if you guys review, promise! Tim's coming got me excited it's pathetic…

_Not a major HuLi (Hugh/Lisa shipper) but I swear, they were so cute on the ET photobooth…have you all seen the video? Check it out on youtube—so cute! She bit his ear!_

Review! Tim is coming, I would really love hearing your guesses!

Oh, and don't bother correcting my medicine…it's not my forte (bad thing to say, I know, but I would rather be honest). I've researched a bit though so I hope I don't write the medicine stuff as lost as I really am. _And 'Gustav Hemmings' and 'Phi Gamma Rho' are completely made up._

Much love,

xoxOphelia

_Stop and Stare _by _One Republic_


	11. Chapter 10: Running to Stand Still

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Note: I really gotta say, I was _really_ surprised when I read the reviews! You guys actually liked Chapter Nine which was totally awesome because I thought the chapter was badly written…Gawd, I was so worried you'd all hate it and desert the fic. *sigh* I love you guys, you're so awesome! I love reviews! I really thought it was going to be my worst chapter, honest!

**Note about Ch. 9: **_**I realized I made a mistake about the list of possible diseases; I kicked out 'Vitamin C Deficiency' during the team's diagnosing and kicked in 'Fibromyalgia'. So sorry, I totally missed it. I've fixed it though so don't get confused about the first scene here with House. Thank you!**_

_**Yay! Chapter Ten, I'm happy I reached this far!**_

Chapter Ten: Running to Stand Still

"House."

"I'm busy. Take a number," he didn't open his eyes, still seemingly stuck in the memories he'd long ago stored and promised never to revisit.

_Promises were made to be broken._

"It's not Staph Infection or Lyme Disease," Thirteen informed. "But we think it could be Vasculitis or Fibromyalgia or ALL."

"Test for Fibromyalgia," House muttered, eyes still closed. "And make sure you pay attention. Testing for that isn't as easy as…I'm too lazy to make a metaphor, but you get it: it's not easy. Symptoms can present like rheumatic conditions and osteoporosis. As for Vasculitis get her an MRI and give her steroids."

"What about ALL?" Kutner asked. "It fits too."

"Then do a bone marrow biopsy," House said, irritated.

"Wait," Taub cut in. "If she has Vasculitis and we put her through a bone marrow biopsy, which isn't exactly a walk in the park, we'll be putting her in more pain than necessary."

House opened one eye. "So, what do you want to do, hobbit?"

Taub glared, "I say we make sure it's either Fibromaylgia or Vasculitis. If not, then do a bone marrow biopsy. ALL is incredibly rare among adults."

House stared at his fellow, wide eyed. "Oh my god, you care about patients!"

The sarcasm was laid on think enough, his fellows just stared at him.

House frowned. "It's because she's hot, isn't she?"

Taub rolled his eyes. "No. I care about the patient, I'm a doctor."

"Then what am I, a duck?" House said, cocking his head to the side.

Kutner grinned while Thirteen sighed, "Are we doing this or not?"

"Follow Dr. Pint Size," House ordered. "Test all possible tests you can for Fibromyalgia, run them twice. Then for Vasculitis, get her an MRI and start her on steroids, see if they work, if not," he made a familiar stabbing motion. "We go all psycho on her gorgeous, but maybe dying ass."

All three of them nodded.

"Wait," House said, raising his cane just as they reached the doors. "Who told?"

Taub looked at Kutner who looked at Thirteen who shrugged, "Nobody. We couldn't find you anywhere else so we looked…at the last place you'd be at."

House stared at her, scrutinizing her up to the point that had Taub and Kutner shifting while she held his stare down without hesitation. "Fine," he said, waving them off with his cane. "Don't go telling mommy where daddy's at. She's ma-ad-ded right now."

"Yeah, we got that from the paperweight throwing and all," Thirteen said as they left.

Kutner snickered. "Yup."

Closing the door silently, House leaned back again.

It was…tragic to him, in a way, that Remy Hadley had Huntington's which meant that one: she was going to die and he would probably need a new fellow and two: she wouldn't be around to challenge him anymore.

It was fun, seeing how she was always willing to stand up against him and challenge him, matching him almost step by step, never truly wavering. She knew how to pick her battles right, she knew who she was. She wasn't intimidated by him, or at least, she didn't appear to be.

She was interesting and smart, her death would be a damn shame, but still, House wouldn't mourn, not yet. She could live for ten more years, God only knows, he would enjoy her spunk and tenacity while he still can.

Tucking his hands behind his back, cane resting parallel to his body, House realized something that left him grinning.

Thirteen reminded him of the young undergrad named Lisa Cuddy.

Of course, Lisa Cuddy, with her storm-blue eyes, beautiful smile, gorgeous breasts and perfect rear end was more _fuckable_ than bisexual Thirteen. Her being bi had been hot, at first, but House…was House. Thoughts of threesomes were fun _fantasies_, but in reality, he liked just having one in his bed. He was Greg House and he _didn't _like to share.

And Thirteen, so much like Cameron, was too young for his taste.

Leaning back with a wolfish grin, House imagined Lisa Cuddy in Ann Arbor, Michigan, a loud little New Yorker who could drink the football team's giant under the table and arrive looking perfect and happy the next morning for her Introduction to Anatomy class with Professor Liam Hunt.

The memory of her and the things he could still remember them doing left him closing his eyes and grinning involuntarily and unaware.

Lisa Cuddy, the witty seventeen-year-old with the curly black hair and that drive to be the best in _everything_ and Lisa Cuddy, M.D. and current Dean of Medicine and Chief Administrator of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital were two different people. Two _very _different people…

Frowning now, House wondered, where did _that_ Lisa go?

-o0o-

Wilson sat in his office, having just told the worrisome Mrs. Edie Flag the good news, _"You don't have cancer" _who had originally come without any relative or friend, preferring to go through the tests on her own, not wanting to worry her own family when _"we're not even sure there's anything to worry about!" _She was a strong woman born and raised in the South who moved to New Jersey to be with her daughter and her husband and their newborn baby boy.

And that was it for the rest of Dr. James Wilson's day, except for his unpaid debt in the Clinic and his last batch of rounds today as head of the Oncology Wing.

Taking out his iPhone and loosening his tie, he decided that in lieu of the last batch of paperwork, he decided he would check his Christmas Shopping List and see who didn't have a gift yet.

His mind threatened to wander off to his unopened but not untouched memories of his last girlfriend, Amber Volakis, who had died a few months back. He still remembered her, but at this time of year, when he had secretly planned a trip to Paris as a gift, he couldn't bear to think of her. Everyday he missed her, but he was afraid he would miss her enough to do something he would later very much regret.

The tickets had already been paid for, the trip planned out. He wondered what to do.

Maybe he'll give it to his mother and father who were both in New York. A trip would be nice and he hadn't gotten around to getting his mother that beautiful cashmere sweater he had seen the other day. She had enough sweaters anyway, he would give her another later.

Yes, the trip to Paris would go to his parents. His mother always loved Paris, especially around the New Years and when it was cold.

With slightly trembling fingers he rubbed his eyes and tore his mind away from the dangerous thoughts, remembering _her _once more. He missed her.

_God, he missed her so much it hurt._

Blinking, he scanned the list he had made, realizing he _did _order the sweater already. He scanned his list. _Down, down, down _the list went.

Cameron.

He hadn't bought a gift for Cameron yet. He was sure the sweater would fit her, his mother was petite like her. That was good. He moved on down the list.

_Lisa._

He hadn't gotten anything for her yet. _House behaving and finishing the rest of his Clinic hours would probably leave her smiling in bliss…_

Not that it was possible.

He thought for a moment. What do you give a woman who has…everything?

_Well, not everything…_

Wilson shook his head. "Baby," he muttered. "Like I can get that anywhere…"

_If he had known she'd considered him for a sperm donor…_

A book, but what kind did she read? Did she even have the time? He shook his head. House would mock him for buying her such a boring gift.

Shaking his head, he placed his phone down and rubbed his face. For the first time in quite a long time, he didn't know what to do. Usually, around this time, House would be annoying him with all sorts of theories and banalities. It was something he would never admit but Wilson had grown so used to House, he didn't know what 'free-time' meant anymore.

The ringing of his phone with the obnoxiously loud thump of, _don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like— _left him staring in bewilderment for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden change.

He cursed under his breath, knowing who had the initiative to change his ring tone for him. He was sure the 'helper' was expecting a thank you.

In his haste to end the obnoxious ringing, he'd forgotten to check the caller.

"Dr. Wilson here…"

"It's me."

Wilson sat up. "Lucas?"

"Yeah," he hummed. "It's kind of weird calling you when you were the one I was looking into the last time I was in town. You want me to look into House this time?" he made a 'ha…ha…' sound that sounded like he was out of breath. Sort of.

Wilson frowned. "Yes, but no, it's not about House…it's about…Cuddy."

"Lisa?" the pitch in his voice had change, sounding more interested now. "Is she okay?"

Wilson was interested now too, detecting immediately the sound of concern in his voice. "She's fine, Lucas…wait, uh, House told me you and Cuddy…"

"It was nothing," Lucas said into the phone. "We went out, once, but that's it. She's…great."

"Then what…"

"I'm not the one she wants," he muttered. "Think of it as Romeo and Juliet…"

"You're Romeo?"

"No, Paris," Lucas said. "She has a Romeo, but Romeo is…an idiot. He hasn't killed himself yet, but he's on his way there. Whatever. I'm Paris, the forgotten and _dead_ Paris."

Wilson shook his head. A romantic Private Investigator—what were the odds in that? And Cuddy as Juliet, he smiled. Ironic especially since he had an idea who Romeo was. Of course a P.I. would detect that. "Moving on, there's a reason why I called you."

"There always is."

"A man came in today," Wilson began, toying with a pen on his desk. _Tap, tap, tap._ "House walked in on him and Cuddy and, well, House said he was manhandling her. He called her Elise and—"

"He hurt Lisa?"

"No," Wilson said hurriedly. "No, not at all. House walked in, thank God, but no, I've spoken to the guy and Cuddy too, he doesn't seem the type. He's got…a brother with cancer and he wanted Cuddy to look into it. He's thinking of moving to Jersey, for his brother. He's from New York."

"My client was from New York too," Lucas mused. "So Lisa's okay?"

"She is," Wilson said. "But I'm worried about this guy…House thinks there's something about him. He doesn't trust him."

"Of course he wouldn't," Lucas said. "He's very territorial when it comes to Lisa."

Wilson blinked. "Oh, so you _know_."

"Dude," Lucas said dryly. "What do I do for a living?"

Wilson nodded. "Right. His name is," he scrambled for the card a little. "Nathan Winslow. He's…a lawyer from New York under Winslow and Herzog."

"I think I've heard of him…" Lucas said. "I think he's one of those big shots in Manhattan right now. My client mentioned him once."

"What's your client's job?" Wilson asked, interested.

"A lawyer," Lucas said. "But not from the same firm so it was random, I guess. Is this Winslow guy a divorce lawyer?"

Wilson checked the card. "No."

Lucas sighed. "All right. I'll dig up what I can, if I find something, I'll check back in. You know my price, right?"

"I'm sure House will tell me," Wilson said. "But I'm willing to pay. Just find out what you can. See if he's anything to worry about. We've talked to him, he seems interested in…Cuddy."

"Romantically?"

Wilson felt like the gossip he was. "Didn't appear so, but it's possible. He said he'll be back. He's hoping to bring his brother here."

"He has a brother?"

Wilson nodded. "He does. His name is Elliot."

Lucas mumbled something Wilson didn't catch. "Got anything else?"

"Elliot is a patient, lung cancer, of Dr. Billy Lang from Atherton Memorial," Wilson informed. "They're good friends with the Atherton family, he said. I'm guessing they're really rich."

"I bet they are," Lucas said. "This should be fun."

"Yeah," Wilson said. "Just make sure he's not some murder-slash-serial-killer, okay?"

Lucas made that weird sound again, which Wilson assumed was his laugh. "I'll find out as much as I can, Jimmy."

Wilson's eyebrows shot up, but he kept silent. "Thanks, Lucas."

"Wait," Lucas said. "House knows?"

"Yes," Wilson said, the corners of his mouth. "He gave me your number."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Nothing. I'll call when I find something."

"Thanks."

With that, Wilson hung up, grinning to himself. So, the Private Investigator did go out with Cuddy at least once. He had an idea who 'Romeo' was in the scene, but wondered too if Cuddy's Paris would indeed remain just that.

Wracking his mind for the story he'd last read in high school, Wilson tried to remember the details. Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, a forbidden love by their quarrelling families, then Paris who came for Juliet's hand in marriage and Rosaline, the Capulet Romeo had originally planned on seeing at the ball.

Wilson thought for a moment, he probably got everything right.

Cuddy would be Juliet, Romeo the unmentionable character, Paris as Lucas claimed to be and Rosaline? Whoever would fit the role would do. The unmentionable has yet to express being rejected by anyone lately.

Wilson closed his eyes then grinned. "Stacy," he smiled.

Yes, Stacy would be Rosaline, the Capulet who sent Romeo into a depression enough to convince Benvolio to bring him to the Capulet Ball.

Wilson could probably be Benvolio. Better than the Friar, he mused.

But then what if Paris _had _married Juliet? What then? Wilson wondered. He'd never been interested in the famous love story like this, but it seemed appropriate somehow.

Of course, the quarrelling families were out of the question, but then the two main players of Wilson's own version of the story were the ones constantly fighting. The forbidden love would be…the hospital. Juliet loved her hospital and the hospital had certain rules about things like this.

Were there? Wilson wasn't sure, but he had dated a few nurses, some of them upon Juliet's awareness. And wasn't it just a few years ago when the unmentionable went out with Cameron? Juliet even approved, right? She told him to get the blue shirt.

Wilson shrugged and moved on. Mercutio…wasn't he the one who got killed by Tybalt? Yes, that was him. Who would be Tybalt and Mercutio? Wilson thought then shook his head. Nobody. Juliet did not need anyone dying around her hospital.

He was completely losing the whole metaphor or whatever this was he was doing.

Back to his original thought, _what if Count Paris did marry Juliet? _Would Romeo had fled then or would he have gotten back to forgotten Rosaline? Unless Rosaline married someone else, maybe some upper-class man…

"I'm losing it," he muttered, shaking his head. He must be really bored today if he was sitting around placing his friends' in some dead writer's world. Ha, he could almost hear Lucas's weird laugh or hyperventilating sound in the back of his head.

Sitting back and pushing his phone aside, Wilson realized that maybe doing his job and finishing the last of his paperwork was a better idea.

_Romeo and Juliet—he was really losing it now._

-o0o-

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy looked up, completely calm now with her phone tucked safely in her pocket. "Yes?"

"Dr. Taylor just called. He was wondering if you could drop by the Children's Ward today," Cody said, smiling a little. "He said it's about this year's Santa Claus project."

Cuddy smiled, "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Could you call him and tell him I'll be right up?"

Cody nodded. "You're looking better."

"Thank you," Cuddy smiled. "I just…needed a friend. I'm fine now."

"That's good to know," Cody said. "I'll call Dr. Taylor now."

Taking a deep breath, Cuddy pulled back from the screen of her computer and saved what she'd accomplished with her year-end report. A visit to the Children's Ward sounded like a good idea at the moment. Dr. Richard Taylor was always accommodating and nice to be around. His love for children and love for being a doctor helped Cuddy's moods on her darker days.

Dr. Taylor was a thirty-year-old attending in the Children's Ward and Cuddy hoped that after Dr. Ellen Marcus finally decides to retire, the board would agree with her decision to promote Dr. Taylor for the position. He was young, just four years out of Medical School, but she was confident that if she could have anyone running the Children's Ward, it would be Dr. Taylor.

Had he been older, around her age, she would have gone for the handsome doctor, knowing full well he was single, at the moment too enrapt around his work with children. Of course, she couldn't so she settled on being friends. Dr. Taylor was one of the few doctors she would gladly see during the day for no scheduled visits.

And planning the Santa Claus visit this year, his first with her, would be something special. Cuddy wanted this year to be better than the last, just as she did the previous year.

Feeling a lot better after her desperate phone call to Tim, she was glad she called. Despite the little tough love in the middle, she was glad to have something to fall back on. She was proud of herself too, knowing she'd taken a few years to be the one come crawling to Tim and having a good reason to.

Nathan was coming back into her life, something they had all agreed was for her to decide. Tim had been furious, of course and Cuddy knew Tim would be dropping a call to Nathan. She felt bad, of course, knowing this would only strain the already strained connection between the two, but she needed the help.

Tim knew what she was going through, knew how hard she'd worked to build her own life. She didn't need Nathan coming into all of that even though she missed him so.

And it was the reason why she'd kept in contact with Tim through the years, even though she'd known Nathan longer. Tim was understanding and could see logic. Nathan simply acted much like Wilson, always pushing 'for what's best for her' despite the entanglements that could follow. She was thankful, of course, for Nathan, but sometimes, Tim just understood more.

But then there was Elliot who was suffering in silence, still keeping her away from everything. Tim had been left on the crossroads in that one, telling Cuddy she too had only found out now. Of course, Tim had gotten angrier, promising to be back as soon as possible, promising to straighten things out with Nathan _and _Elliot.

Tim had always been like Hermes, the messenger of the gods.

Pulling on her lab coat, Cuddy tucked her phone in her pocket and clipped her pager on, feeling better enough to stalk the halls of her hospital once again, confident and ready.

This year, she promised, would be the best Santa Claus visit than ever.

Thoughts filled with work, appeased now by her faithful Timmy, she left her office, shutting the door behind her and smiling at Cody as she passed.

Maybe today wasn't as bad as she thought.

-o0o-

-**o0o0o**-

-o0o-

The end of the day had come faster for everyone. Foreman had come back, declaring having found nothing in the patient's apartment and dance studio. Thirteen, Kutner and Taub had concluded she didn't have Vasculitis or Fibromyalgia. They scheduled her for a bone marrow biopsy the next day, leaving them all to sleep, their pagers on and active in case anything changed with the patient.

This, of course, made House happy enough to go home. He was curious as to why the patient didn't present any other symptoms, but he was sure that sometime in the night or maybe early in the morning, she would have one for them.

Something was probably wrong with her, he wasn't sure, but he was glad to go home.

Stepping out of his office, backpack on his back and wearing his infamous leather jacket, he headed to Wilson's office. The snow was thicker now, blanketing the hospital and the roads dangerously with white, slippery powder.

Riding his motorcycle was out of the question. If he dared, it was an inevitable that he was going skid and break his neck.

_Beautiful._

He lifted his cane and began to bang loudly, "Hey, Wilson! Cripple needs to get home!"

"It's open," came the muffled reply.

House pushed the door open to find his best friend sitting on his desk, a pile of folders next to him and one open in front of him, pen poised in hand, ready to write. "Oh, no…"

"What?" Wilson asked, glancing on the file in front of him then back at House.

"She turned you," House muttered. "Turned your goody two shoes ass into a meek, submissive paper-pusher to add to her paper-pushing pansy army."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "House."

"What?" House asked, refusing to enter. "Drop it and no one gets hurt." He sniffed loudly. "The scent of pansy isn't that strong, there might be hope for you yet."

"House, I'm finishing up my case files," Wilson said. "It's not like the rest of us have a head of the Emergency Room working on our case files for us."

House smirked. "Awesome, huh? You are so jealous."

"Who wouldn't be?" Wilson asked, putting his pen down and closing the folder in front of him. "A blonde senior attending whisking in every month to take my paperwork away for me…you have it too good. Cuddy doesn't even protest."

"Cuddy only cares about her paperwork finished," House said. "She doesn't care who did it, as long as it's there on her table by the end of the day."

"Ah," Wilson said as he got up, ready to go now. "The wonders of goals, it drives the best of us to overlook the…" he looked at House. "Glitches in life…"

"That was supposed to be something deep, right?" House asked dryly. "That one sucked, try again, oh Philosopher Le Divorcee."

Wilson gave him a look, grabbing his case and his phone from his desk. "Shut up or I'm making you get a cab."

House feigned hurt. "Dr. Wilson, you wound me!"

"Good," Wilson muttered as he grabbed his coat and scarf. "Come on, House. I think a drink would be nice right now."

"Oh, I love you," House sighed as they left his office.

As they headed to the elevators, Wilson glanced at House. "So, did you find out about what our Dean of Medicine is hiding?"

House cringed. "No. Spent the day in the clinic. My patient is totally stagnant right now. Not getting better, not getting worse."

"Good," Wilson said and House gave him a look. "Rather than a patient dying…"

"I don't know what she's hiding, but she is," House said, shaking his head. "Did the P.I. call you?"

Wilson nodded. "I made him look in on Nathan and Elliot Winslow. He might dig up something."

"What do you expect to find, McGyver?" House asked as the elevators opened and they stepped in. "Some paper with their names on it? Murderer-slash-deranged-killer list?"

"No," Wilson said. "Just something to make sure Cuddy won't be in danger of anything."

"You're taking this protect the queen thing way too seriously," House muttered as he watched the numbers change overhead.

"Someone has to."

House shot him a look. "So just because I'm not going stalker on her I don't care about Cuddy?"

"Why, do you care about Cuddy?" Wilson asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, I care about her ass," House said, deflecting. "Your Wonder Boy Oncologist play is interesting. You feel the need to save her, afraid that you'll be too late and she'll _die _like your girlfriend and you'll be left once again, wondering if there was something more you could have done for her."

Wilson stared at House as the doors opened. He was still House, crass and blunt. He would use Amber's death to his advantage, whether it was to deflect or to diagnose him and his emotions, tying them all to his loss.

He expected himself to be angered or at least, a little bothered to have his friend talk about his dead girlfriend oh so easy, but Wilson found himself…untouched. Somehow, hearing House talk about anything near Amber wasn't affecting him as much as he had thought it would. It wasn't necessarily a sign of moving on, but to Wilson, it was a sign that things could truly go back to the way they were.

Wilson was _accepting_ it—he lost Amber, someone he truly loved, someone who was perfect for him, but his friend was still there. It didn't matter now, what happened. In Wilson's heart, he would accept that it was her time, that if House and that bus hadn't been involved, something else would have been.

And House risked his life to save her and in some twisted way, that was comforting to Wilson now. It proved House's friendship and the lengths he would for him. To Wilson and Wilson alone, it was a comfort that Amber had been with House instead of a random stranger.

She could have gotten on the bus with someone else and no one would have found her symptoms. She would have died, without him holding her in his arms, without him telling her he loved her, without him telling her it was okay to let go while at the same time telling himself the same thing.

Wilson would accept it now, that everything happened with House. Without him, he wouldn't have held Amber in his arms as she lay dying. He would treasure that—the last kiss, the last moment he held her, her last smile.

These were unspoken things, things Wilson wouldn't probably tell House, but he had the feeling his friend _knew_ already.

"I just don't want anything to happen to Cuddy," Wilson said as they headed to the car park. "I care about her, House."

"You care about her ass."

"I care about _her_," Wilson insisted.

House frowned as they neared Wilson's car. "Lucas find anything yet?"

"Not yet," Wilson said, pressing the remote from his keys to deactivate the alarm. "But it's only been less than a day, House. He was good, I'm sure, but he can't be that good."

"He's not good," House said as he slipped into the silver Lexus' front seat. "He's cheap and he's weird. That's why I hired him."

Wilson smirked as he slipped in the driver seat. "I find it amazing how similar you two are."

"We are not similar," House snarled. "For one, I don't wear ugly socks like he does."

"Uhuh," Wilson said as he backed out. "He likes Cuddy too, you know."

"He likes her legs."

"He likes _Lisa._"

"I like Lady Funbags."

"House."

"Wilson."

House rummaged in his bag. "Oh, look, my _other_ best friend," he pulled out his PSP. "Gotta share me, Jimmy, my other friends are feeling neglected."

Wilson smirked as House played with obnoxiously loud game as he drove.

_They were making progress._

-o0o-

"They're gone now, Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy looked up from where she sat on her couch, dressed already with her Burberry coat, scarf and cap, her case sitting on her feet next to her. "Are you sure?"

Cody nodded, she too was dressed ready to leave. "Yup, Dr. Wilson just pulled out."

Cuddy smiled and slipped on her gloves. "Thank you, Cody."

"No problem," Cody said. "Do you want to walk out together?"

Cuddy smiled. "That would be nice. Is Brenda around?"

Cody shook her head. "She went to the ER after Dr. Cameron paged her."

The Administrator nodded as she got up. "All right," she picked up her case. "I guess it's time to go now…"

Cody smiled. "Feels weird, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"Leaving on the dot?" Cody asked, grinning. "No overtime."

"Prescribed by a friend," Cuddy muttered. "Who will know if I went home on time or not…"

Cody perked up. "Oh? Is it a…"

Cuddy raised her eyebrows as she turned off the lights in her office. "No," she said firmly. "Someone who just knows me too well, you know?"

Cody grinned. "Oh."

The two stepped out of the offices and into the Clinic where the night shift were already starting. Some nurses smiled at Cuddy and her assistant as they made their way, some waved goodbye.

"You have a ride, right?" Cuddy asked as they exited through the main entrance.

"Yup," Cody said. "My dad insisted I get a car around Jersey. He said unlike New York, cars actually have a use around here."

Cuddy smiled. "He's not wrong."

"Never really is," Cody said, smiling fondly. "What about your dad, Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy's eyes shifted away as she focused on her car not too far away. "My dad…sometimes he's wrong, sometimes he's right."

"Does he live around Jersey too?" Cody asked, jingling her keys in her hand while she tucked the other in her pocket.

"No," Cuddy said, tightly. "He lives in New York."

"Oh," Cody said, nodding. "Visit him often? I always loved New York."

Cuddy shook her head, "I've got a hospital to run and he…has things to do. He's a busy man."

Cody pursed her lips. "Oh."

Cuddy shrugged. "He's good at what he does, can't blame him."

Cody nodded. "Yeah," she stopped in front of her old blue Camry. "This is me."

"Okay," Cuddy said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Cody."

"Bright and early, as always," Cody said, waving as she headed to her car. "It's a good thing it's stopped snowing for a bit, huh?"

Cuddy looked up, "Yeah, lesser chances of getting in an accident. Take care."

"You too," Cody said as she slipped into her car with a wave.

Cuddy waved as she headed to her own spot with the sign that bore her position in the hospital. It was father from the entrance than Cody, a result from a little wager-slash-war she had with House concerning another handicapped doctor. She taken away and given back his space and moved the other doctor to a more convenient spot, leaving her to make a few adjustments, including moving her own space a little farther, which was fine.

She slipped into the driver's seat of her red Cadillac CTS, a splurge she'd allowed herself to attain the previous year. Of course, House made his potshots upon seeing the car and Wilson had admired it, but she'd shrugged them off. She reasoned, along with the Tim voice in her head, that she deserved it after one horrendous year.

It was a gift, to herself, and it was only high time she gave up her old Lexus. Of course, House had planted some residual guilt, but after a while, she learned to shrug it off. She had a right to some luxuries too, right?

Turning up the heater and settling her case in the front seat, Cuddy pulled out of the parking lot, intending to make this night a calm one without work, just as fake-Dr. Timmy prescribed.

Smiling, she turned on the CD player and listened to the music, wondering when the last time she'd done just that. She frowned when she couldn't remember.

House, of all people, would have been surprised if he'd heard the music from her car. It was Vivaldi, his Concerto for Two Mandolins in G major. He didn't know and she wouldn't tell him, but she was a fan of music as well. It was something that didn't come up, even twenty years back in college, when she lounged around while listening to him play the piano and his guitar.

He never asked and she never said which was completely fine with her.

Settling back with a smile on her face as she listened to the playful and soothing sounds of the Mandolin, she sat back and drove, looking forward to a quiet night.

Tonight, she promised herself, was going to be a good night.

Driving through the streets that lead to her house, Cuddy was completely relaxed, for the first time in quite a long time. She supposed it was talking to Tim, which always resembled miracles since she knew that under different circumstances, she should be panicking and hyperventilating about Nathan and whatever was about to happen.

Tim always knew how to soothe her even without meaning to; something she knew always annoyed Nathan and pleased Elliot.

Smiling a little at the thought of her brother, Cuddy tried not to think about anything else except good memories. Elliot was always the best brother, even when she was tiny Lily.

"_We can't call you Ellie," Elliot said as they both sat in the car with their mother who listened as well. "Right mommy?"_

_Elise pouted and crossed her arms in front of her, ruffling her uniform. "Why not?" even at the tender age of five she was already outspoken. "They call you Ellie, why not me?"_

"_Because _I'm _Ellie," her brother said, grinning._

"_It is quite confusinf," their mother nodded. "Maybe we should think of something else then, Elise?"_

_Elise looked at her mother then her brother, both on either side of her. "What? Everybody calls him Ellie and they call you…lots of names."_

"_But grandpa always called her Lisa," Elliot said, looking at his mother with a smile. "I like Lisa."_

"_I like Lisa too," Elisabeth said, smiling as she kissed the top of her daughter's head. "What about Lily? Ellie brought mommy Lilies when you were born."_

_Elise thought for a moment. She always liked being called Ellie, like her brother, but then Lily was nice too, Her mother had a garden full at home and daddy always brought home Lilies after long days from something called 'work'. Lisa was her mothers, Ellie was her brothers and her daddy was always daddy, except when it was mommy calling him, but then they used a lot of names on each other too._

_Lily didn't sound too bad, plus, Lilies were beautiful and daddy always said she was the most beautiful girl, next to mommy._

_Elise looked up at her mother. "Lily is pretty."_

"_And so are you," her mother kissed her head again. "What about you Ellie?"_

"_Lily sounds pretty too," he said, grinning. "Lily is perfect."_

"_Well, then, that's settled," their mother said, smiling as she ruffled her son's hair, making Elise giggle. "Now, what did you do in school today?"_

Cuddy shook her head, realizing she'd driven home without much thought and the music had changed to _Autumn _from the Four Season's piece.

Her mother always loved listening to the Four Seasons and every time she heard or listened to it in parts or as a whole, she remembered her.

Cuddy closed her eyes, still strapped to her seat as her car idled in the turn that lead up to her garage, thoughts of her mother and brother invading her senses and memories.

"Lily," she whispered, softly, remembering that day perfectly. From that day on, her mother and Elliot had called her Lily, along with some close members of the family, even the helpers and her nanny had called her Lily, upon her insistence.

Her father, of course, teased her and called her by her name, which infuriated her until her mother told her that was the way daddy was, just like he liked to call her by her full name, not like her grandfather who liked calling her with his own nickname.

Thoughts of family, of the peppermint that always permeated around her grandfather, of her mother's laughter, of Elliot's smile and her father's embrace, Cuddy found herself drifting off.

It was easier then, back when life was so simple when all she had to cry about was the uniforms her pesky prissy school insisted they wear and the scraped knees she had when Millicent Harding pushed her off the swing. Her mother had come to school that day when Elise refused to stop crying, her white stockings torn and ripped, bloody and damaged, just like her knees.

Her mother had soothed her and had taken her home after speaking with Mrs. Harding who scolded mean Millicent who had grudgingly said sorry.

Next day, Mother and Mrs. Harding had to come again, this time for Elliot and Jake Harding who had gotten in a fight when Elliot told Jake to speak to his sister. Even at a young age, Elliot had been protective. That talk had ended with a fight with Jake drawing the first push.

Elliot pushed back and Nathan was next to him, sweet Nathan who didn't like getting in trouble and was a year younger than Elliot.

Both boys had gotten in trouble with Elliot gaining one punch at Jake; Elisabeth scolded Elliot while Elise hugged her hero. Their father knew and, to their mother's dismay, patted him on the back for being a good big brother.

_Stop it_, a voice hissed at Cuddy as she gripped her steering wheel. It sounded like Tim. _Stop it, you're only hurting yourself. You chose not to go back so **don't**._

Shaking her head and forcing the lump that had formed in her throat, Cuddy proceeded to park her car in her garage. She convinced herself that things were better this way.

_No going back, not now, not ever._

Grabbing her case, she went into her home and headed straight for the foyer where she always hung her coats and scarf, ready for grabbing on days when she had to hurry. Unbuttoning her coat and untucking her scarf, she failed to notice the flowers that lay not too far away.

Depositing her things she turned and saw, her mouth dropping open. The familiar display of Lilies sat next to a cream envelope with her name, _Elise_, on top in a familiar handwriting, next to it was her key with a scrawled message on top.

Hesitating, hearing Tim's thunderous screams to step away, Cuddy approached the gifts, knowing already who gave them without opening the card.

She picked up her key, recognizing it to be one of her spares and picked up the note, _You haven't changed much, Elise, to which I am glad. I miss you. –Nate_

Slipping the key into her pocket, promising to hide it somewhere else, she picked up the envelope, her fingers tracing the velvet petals of the white and the soft blush of yellows and pinks. Fingers shaking, she slipped the envelope out.

_Lily,_

_Do you remember? Everything we ever promised each other…I miss you. Please, think about coming home, even just for a while. I promise, everything's changed…you can come home now and…we can finally build the life we promised each other. If you want to be a doctor, you can be at home, with us. You'll be far greater there, I promise you that. Please, Lily, reconsider. Elliot agrees, he does. Come home._

_I still love you as I always will,  
__Nate_

Hearing Tim's screaming louder in her ears, Cuddy realized it was a mistake to open the card. She shouldn't have, not tonight when everything was still so…unstable. _She _was still unstable.

With shaking fingers, she tried to push the letter back in place, missing once then twice then she got it right the third time, the edges of the card now dent and bent. Grabbing the piece of paper along, she headed to her living room where the fireplace sat.

Pouring gas in on the wood and lighting the match easily, she tossed it in and started a strong, steady fire. She felt the heat come over her, helping still her shaking form. A sob threatened to escape her throat, but she pushed it back viciously.

_She wasn't ready for this_.

Looking at the cream envelope and the piece of white paper, she tossed them in, right into the heart of the fire and watched as they curled and let the fire engulf them, burning them from the edges until they curled into black ashes, burning and burning until it crumbled on the burning wood and into nothingness.

She watched, dazed, as the fire roared, the thundering of her heart now calming as the evidence of her past burned into ashes. The flowers would sit, she would let them, knowing she can't burn them.

Cuddy watched the blaze, feeling the heat, until she came to a decision.

She would give the flowers away…if not, dispose of them anywhere but the trash.

They were beautiful, after all, and it would be waste to throw them away.

She thought about that baby from a few days back, remembering where the family had buried it along with her mother. Yes, that would be perfect. She would visit the grave for the first and last time, lay the flowers down and walk away.

Still quite dazed, she stood on shaking legs, her feet still encased in today's high heels. Tomorrow, she thought, she would wear safer winter shoes.

Kicking off her shoes in delayed rebellion to proper storage of things, she left them by the fire place and set off to the corner of the living room where an antique cabinet with a lock lay. The lock was a fake, a prop, and she easily snapped it off and pulled the doors open.

Reaching in, she grabbed a bottle without thinking. She glanced at it and found herself holding the bottle of Ouzo that a donor, an old man named Luce Sterling, had given her. She'd thought about tossing it out at first, but then realized it was expensive so she stored it away in her fake locked cabinet.

She'd thought about giving it to someone else, House or Wilson, but never got around to.

Now she was glad.

Swirling the bottle, watching the transparent liquid produce small air bubbles, she decided.

Tonight, she thought as she plopped herself in front of her fireplace, she would drink.

Yup, she was going to be drinking tonight. Yes, she was.

_If only to escape the memories that threatened to overwhelm her._

Cuddy would drink, until Tim came as promised. Tonight, she was going to run as far as she could, away from everyone and everything.

Twisting the cap off easily, she brought the drink to her lips, taking it straight without thought, closing her eyes as the liquid burned its way down her throat.

Yes, tonight she was running.

-o0o-

_Running to Stand Still _by _U2_

Here's the update, everyone. Hope you don't mind it came late again. Stupid school.

And don't mentally castrate me or murder me because Tim wasn't here yet. Please? I tried, but I realized things were going on in between. Day Two on Chapter Ten, I promise!

I finally got to watch the 100th ep and I gotta say, I kind of felt bad for House. Huh, though that scene with the tripwire was brilliant. Cuddy was acting out on pure vengeance, which of course wasn't exactly a good thing, but can you blame her? Oh, well. Huddy anyway…

And I am looking forward to episode 101, _"If you don't split, you must quit!" _was awesome. So looking forward to it, plus, its Rachel's day, I hope House comes. Like Kirstin from E! I will eat my shoe if he doesn't show! _I totally hate they skipped one week again. President's day…Obama rocks and all, but I hate it when things get between me and my fave show._

Anyway, thanks for the reviews everyone! Please review again.

And** GREAT NEWS:**

**You'll meet TIM next chapter. Who's looking forward to that? I know I promised that Chapter Ten would be Tim's debut, but things kind of ran long. I am ashamed that I even put the medicine on hold, but I had to end the chapter with Cuddy getting drunk, I'm sorry.**

**But scout's honor, Tim will be in Chapter Eleven and I am just as excited for you guys to meet my new character as I hope you guys are.**

**Review because two more and I get a hundred, which for me is a big thing…pathetic, I know! Shhhh!**

Love, love, love!  
xoxOphelia

_P.S. shameless plug, please don't hate me—**Cry Me a River**, my other fic that I posted. I'm wondering if I should leave it as a one shot or let it continue. Please, let me know your thoughts along with your reviews before I mark is as 'complete'. Thanks!_


	12. Chapter 11: I'm Awake, it's Morning

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING. Thirteen and Foreman are already together since some Joy to the World facts, however altered, have been implied already. Hope it isn't _that _confusing.

Note: I've mixed in some events from the episodes this season five, including the Drug Trial thing with Thirteen and Foreman only I'm changing things a little. Hope no one minds!

Chapter Eleven: I'm Awake, it's Morning

Unlike the previous day, the front lobby of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was considerably colder as the front lawns outside were blanketed with white snow that continued to pile up as little snowflakes fell, some in clumps, some in little flakes. Cody Gomez found herself staggering in, bundled up in a thick blue-black parka, her face half covered by her scarf, her ears covered by fuzzy earmuffs and her head covered in her thick cap, a gift her grandmother had knitted for her five Christmases ago.

Seeing a seemingly happy Nurse Brenda on the front desk, chatting with Angela Barns, the nurse in charge of the lobby that day, she hurried up to them, puffing.

Nurse Brenda turned to her, "Well hello, Nanook."

Cody pulled off her cap and ear muffs, shaking her head. "Damn, it's cold outside. Wasn't it just yesterday we were enjoying a somewhat sunny day with snow?"

Nurse Brenda smiled. "Days like this, it's so Christmas."

"You look happy," Cody commented, pulling out her scarf now and rolling it haphazardly.

"Dave's staying for Christmas," she grinned. "No work for my hubby means a pretty Christmas for me and my darling, Toto."

"I miss Toto," Cody said, grinning as she remembered the yappy little dog Dave had gotten his wife for her birthday.

"Live with him and you won't," Nurse Brenda muttered. "The little nightmare keeps going for my shoes, I am running out. I love and adore the runt, but ever thought about adopting?"

Cody laughed. "Sorry, my apartment is strictly no dogs allowed. Landlord got some odd history with dogs, rumored one pooch tried to bite _it _off."

"Ugh," the nurse grunted. "Discrimination of dogs? He's going down."

"Well go on and take him down, Rambo," Cody teased. "I'm all for a good show."

Angela laughed. "Me too, Bren."

The nurse smirked. "Sorry, hubby's the only one who likes it rough."

"Okay, not talking to you now. Hello, Angie," Cody turned away and said with a smile, her cheeks red from the cold.

"Hey, Cody," Angela said, pulling out some pink slips. "Dr. Cuddy has some messages from very early this morning. Let her know Dr. Meriden is complaining about the ice once again? Like she does every year…" she rolled her brown eyes.

Cody reached for the slips and looked at the nurse next to her. "Dr. Cuddy isn't in yet?" She checked her watch. It was a few minutes past eight and usually, her boss was already in by then.

Nurse Brenda grinned. "Nope, our great leader is, for the first time in years, is late. By her own schedule, of course, she usually gets in before seven-forty-five."

Cody read right through the giddy glint in the nurse's eyes. "She didn't have any sort of date, that's for sure," she muttered. She could linger, hoping to catch her boss come in.

"Hum…" Nurse Brenda hummed. "Heard she clocked out on time last night?"

"That she did," Cody said, stuffing her earmuffs and cap in her bag. "Her friend insisted she get home and not do overtime. I asked, sort of, if it was a boyfriend, she said no and it was just someone who knew her well enough. Sounded like someone she actually listens to."

Nurse Brenda raised her eyebrows. "Really now? I think I need to _meet _that person. I'll have to ask how she or _he _does it."

"_Excuse me."_

All three turned and immediately they were met with black—a _lot _of black.

Angela was first to react, "Good morning, welcome to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"Yes," corners of the full red lips arched up in a small smile. "Lisa Cuddy?"

"Uh," Angela said, this time caught off guard by the strange apparition in front of them. "Dr. Cuddy is not in right now. She's running a bit late, it seems. Would you like to wait or leave a message?"

The lips frowned and a black leather gloved hand raised the sunglasses that covered the face to reveal a pair of beautiful blue-green eyes that reminded them of the sea. "I'd rather know where I can find her? It's a bit…urgent."

Suddenly, someone hurried to the desk. "Hey, sorry, a bit late, I know. Messages?"

-o0o-

The three women and the woman in black stared at the form of a frantic looking Dr. Allison Cameron and wordlessly, Angela handed her the slips of pink paper. Behind her, Dr. Robert Chase, looking cool ad dressed in his black coat stood with an amused look on his face.

"She's a bit…stressed," he said by way of apology.

"Robert Chase?" the woman in black smiled.

The Australian doctor stared, his head cocked to the side as he took in the woman in black. Her hair was black, like ink, but appeared straight, smooth and luscious; her lips were full and coated in red. She wore a _very_ expensive looking black cashmere turtle neck, underneath a long black coat that fit her perfect petite figure, tight black pants that clung to her legs tucked in calf length high heeled boots. She looked like she walked out of a runway or a magazine cover.

"Er, hi?" he said, grinning.

The woman tore her eyes away from the doctor and let it fall on the even more ruffled looking head of the Emergency Room. "And you must me Dr. Allison Cameron."

"Uh, yes," Cameron said, surprised as if she didn't expect the woman to acknowledge her. "Do I know you?"

The woman cocked her head to the side, her nose wrinkled. "Not yet, but," she swept her hand over the doctor. "I love the whole tragic damsel in distress look. The whole lost look is quite catching, very _you_. We _must _speak, just the two of us."

Behind the woman, Chase suppressed a snicker as he looked at his seemingly shell shocked girlfriend who was now staring, blankly.

"Ever think about going into acting?" the woman asked, smiling alluringly. "Better than picking out broken glass and sawed off dead fingers of idiots who accidentally sliced them halfway through with a hacking saw." She sighed. "Oh, well," she pushed her sunglasses back in place. "Think about it."

The woman turned to Angela. "If Dr. Cuddy _does_ come in; tell her I'm invading her home." She waved at Chase and walked off, towards the exits.

The group continued to watch as she walked away, right out into the snow, her high heels digging in and straight into a waiting black shiny car.

"Who was that?" Chase asked, grinning. "Do you know her, Allison?"

Cameron shook her head. "No," she grabbed her slips of paper. "And I don't think I want to."

"Really?" he smiled. "I think I do."

She gave him a look. "Shut up. She's older than you."

"She was hot," he teased.

"Shut up."

Walking off with the grinning Radiologist, the three women were left to stare after that vision in black. Cody stared at Brenda who shrugged while Angela restacked her slips of messages.

"She's invading Dr. Cuddy's home?" Cody asked, frowning. "Do we know her?"

"Nope," Brenda said, shrugging. "But I have a feeling we're about to."

-o0o-

The soft thumping jolted House out of his stupor as he lay flat on his back in bed. He groaned, opening one eye while the other smacked the silent alarm clock, mistaking it for the source of the nuisance that disturbed his slumber.

He heard laughter. "That was not your alarm, House. Get up."

"Go 'way," he waved his hand blindly. "No sex, Cuddy, me sleep…"

More laughter, "Like Cuddy would even dare step in your apartment."

House growled. "Go 'way…"

"House, get up," the voice was firmer this time. "Come on, up! You didn't drink that much."

House opened his eyes, seeing an already dressed Wilson standing with two coffee cups from Starbucks. "Coffee? What time is it?" He glared at his alarm clock, seeing it was only eight in the morning. "Damn it, go 'way," he groaned as he plopped back in bed.

"Come on, House, you've got a case," Wilson said. "Your team's been calling you all morning."

House groaned. "What did they say?"

"Don't know, you'll have to get up for that," Wilson taunted. "Looks like a new symptom."

Opening one pissed off eye, House glared at the Oncologist. "Better not have uppers in that damned coffee, Wilson."

"Who? Me?" Wilson said, sarcastically. "Of course not."

House got up, massaging his leg. "Cut it out. You sound like a lame imitation of me."

"That's a compliment, right?" Wilson smirked. "Now, get up. It's another beautiful snowy day."

"Give me back my key," House muttered. "I hate you in my apartment."

Wilson shook his head. "I know, oh, and," he tossed House's phone at him. "Your mother called."

House caught the phone. "Damn."

"Well, don't sound so happy about it," Wilson grinned, sarcasm laid on thick.

"Shut up," House muttered. "Did you pick up like a good wifey?"

"No," Wilson said as he came in and handed in the coffee. "She said she's got tickets already."

House nodded. "Right," he sipped his coffee. "Now get out of my room! I need to get ready. Call my team, see if it's important, if not, let me have my Cuddy-time in my shower."

Wilson winced. "I did not need to know that."

House smirked. "It's not like you don't do it. Hypocrite."

Wilson smirked. "At least I don't blab it all around. Should I get my housekeeper to clean your apartment?"

"What for?" House asked as he got up, popping two pills into his mouth.

"Your mother is coming, isn't she?" Wilson asked, puzzled.

"Oh, yeah, whatever," House mumbled. "Not like she won't just clean all over again anyway."

"Aren't you happy she's coming?" Wilson asked.

"Sure, got me to get a few days off work," House said. "It's cool."

"How mature of you," Wilson muttered. "Does Cuddy know your mother's coming?"

"Why should she?" House groused. "No one needs to know."

"Why not? You're spending Christmas with your mother, big deal," the Oncologist said. "Oh, wait, does she like the Broadway? I've got tickets."

House glared. "If you think you're getting me to go to New York to see some pansy ass Annie show the answer is no."

"Then _I'll _take _your _mother then," Wilson said. "Blythe's always been good company. She always has the most interesting stories about you."

House glared. "You are enjoying this too much."

"Of course not."

"Shut up."

-o0o-

A soft jolt roused Cuddy from her sprawled position in front of her now dead fireplace. She moaned as she felt the loud thundering in her head. God, did she have a hangover?

"Well, this is beautiful."

She moaned. "Go away."

"You call me, whimpering and ask me to go away now that I'm here?" she felt the toe of a boot jostle her gently, poking at her side. "Up, now, pretty. It's a new day."

Cuddy groaned until she recognized the voice. "Tim?"

"In the flesh."

Scrambling, Cuddy got up from her position on the carpeted floors, wobbling a little as the room began to spin. She grabbed on to whatever she could which happened to be a pair of slender legs. Tim laughed. "Oh, honey, you're kidding me right?"

"Spinning," Cuddy moaned. "Spinning…stop…help…die."

Immediately she felt a pair of hands wrapped around her waist and she clung on. "God, what happened to you, Lee?"

"Ouzo."

Tim laughed again. "Oh, god, Greek alcohol and my Lisa don't go together. Never have, never will. Bad girl."

Cuddy grunted as she was helped up, leaning her body against the invader's petite frame. "Hon, a little help would be nice, okay? You woke me up with that bitch hangover and it hurt like hell. I do the same and yet you get help." She sighed. "You always did have it easier."

"Shu' up," came the muffled reply as Cuddy let her head fall limply on her shoulder, her arms shakily crawling around Tim's neck.

"Where to, boozy?"

"Bath," was the gurgled word, her head still pressed onto her friend's shoulder.

"Oh, look," Tim said, stopping. "Looks like you got to the whiskey too, Lee. Such a rebel…" She began to drag Cuddy to her bathroom. "God, you're not fat, but you're heavy!"

"Shu' up!"

"When you learn how to pronounce T again, I will," she grunted. "Sweetie, I did not wear Dolce just to have you hang on me like a rag. Warn me when you go pukey, okay?"

"M'kay," Cuddy mumbled under a mess of dark hair.

"A multimillion dollar project dumped to help you get over a hangover," Tim sighed as she dragged Cuddy closer to her bedroom. "I taught you better than this."

Cuddy moaned in response. "Head…thunder…stop…no talky…"

"I'll listen when you learn how to form sentences," Tim grunted. "Okay, bed," she then plopped Cuddy unceremoniously onto her bed.

"Ugh," Cuddy moaned louder, her head throbbing harder now having been tossed once again, feeling her brain bounce in her head. "Bad…"

Tim plopped next to her on the bed. "Okay, Lisa. You got me. I'm here now tell me what the hell Stinky Binky has been up to."

"Don't call him that," Cuddy moaned, feeling the bile threaten to rise. She shut her eyes tightly, knowing that if she opened them, the room would begin to spin and she would most definitely throw up. Her legs still felt shaky, she didn't think she would make it to the bathroom.

"You okay?" Tim asked, resting on her side, pressing her hand on Cuddy's cheek. "Lee?"

"M'fine," Cuddy mumbled. "Don' call 'im 'tinky Binky."

Lee smiled and clapped, "A full sentence, finally. Good, Lisa, good. Keep going. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go after _Stinky Binky _and castrate him with a rusty old bread knife."

"No," Cuddy moaned. "Ellie…Ellie's sick."

"I've tried calling, no one's picking up," Tim said softly. "I dropped by your hospital. Met the gorgeous Barbie, Robert Chase and his sidekick, Kitty Cameron, I told her to consider acting. She won't have to fake the puppy eyes."

"Tim."

"Oh, it was worth a try," Tim said. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Cuddy mumbled. "Bit pukey."

She could only imagine what her employees would think to hear her say 'pukey'.

"You need to get ready," Tim said, pushing her a little. "Or do you want to take the day off?"

"No," Cuddy mumbled, eyes still closed. "Reports…call Dr. Taylor…Santa Claus…"

"All powerful job you got there if you got Santa Claus on speed dial," Tim mumbled.

"Shut up," Cuddy growled quietly.

"I'm getting you some aspirin or something stronger, some orange juice, a good outfit for today and we can go out to breakfast," Tim said, hopping off the bed. "Or would you like me in the shower with you, darling?"

Cuddy hissed. "No!"

Tim laughed. "I've seen it all, Lee, and you still have the best ass I've seen and you know I've seen them all…"

"Ugh. Go away."

"You know you love me," Tim taunted. "Now get up. I came for some bonding time with my best friend now I want it. I need to see what's so goddamned good about that hospital of yours."

Clicking out of the room, Cuddy was engulfed in silence once more. She wondered if it was all a dream, that Tim wasn't really there, but when the pounding in her head reminded her of its presence, she knew this was real.

Tim was here.

Grinning, despite the worst hangover of the century, Cuddy slowly got up and made her way to the bathroom. She had a killer hangover but Tim was here now and that made all the difference in the world.

Well, not really…

"Oh god," she moaned as suddenly her stomach revolted, the grin on her face immediately wiped away as she stumbled to the bathroom. The moment she reached the toilet, she threw herself down and retched, tears stinging her eyes, her body shaking with convulsions.

The bile that forced its way out of her mouth was mostly liquid, reminding her she forgot to eat dinner the night before. Her body convulsing again with a vengeance, she promised she was never going to drink again.

She moaned and let herself lie on the cold tiles, pressing her cheek against the cool surface until she was sure her stomach was empty and settled. A few more agonizing minutes, she knew she was done as breathed heavily.

"Ew," she mumbled as she stood on shaking legs after flushing the toilet and her previous night's misery. Hanging on to the counter as she reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste, intent of scrubbing away the foul taste worst than bile in her mouth.

"No mow dwinking," she muttered as she brushed, the foam escaping her mouth on the side. She brushed until she was sure she could breathe without the foul sent.

Next, she turned on the shower on hot, stripped and walked under the spray, the headache that thumped in her head settling on a light throbbing now as she braced herself against the walls in front of her, arms shaking slightly.

Despite her hellish ordeal, Cuddy found herself smiling.

Tim came.

She felt better already.

-o0o-

Artemis Lynn Theodoratus, or as she was more commonly known, Tim, was fit to be tied. She stood pacing around her best friend's kitchen, high heeled boots clicking sharply as she paced back and forth furiously, her phone pressed to her ear as she waited impatiently for the other end to pick up.

"Nathan Andrei Winslow," she thundered. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Nice to hear from you too, Tim. How's tricks?"

"Better than what you're doing," Tim hissed into the phone. "Nathan, give me one goddamned good reason why I shouldn't tell the supposed _love of your life _right now that I just saw her brother _five _days ago with all of his hair in tact, his lungs in place and working well with him breathing properly _on his own _in _Central Park _after _jogging?_"

Nathan sighed. "It's not what you think…"

"What do I think, Nathan? WHAT DO I THINK? Because I _don't_ **know**," she growled. "I am in Princeton, New-fucking-Jersey _right now_ and I just picked her up off the floor _after _she drank herself stupid in her living room last night. And don't you think I did not see that stupid display of Lilies in the foyer."

"Elliot is in on this."

"Well, that's fucking comforting, Nate," Tim said sarcastically. "Just what she needs: her _brother _lying to her with her two-faced idiot of an **ex**-boyfriend!"

"Hey! Watch it, Tim, we're just doing what's best for her…"

"Best for her? You kidding me right?" she laughed. "She got fucking drunk, Nate! _Drunk_! You think that's okay? She _called_ **me**. She did not sound okay or fine or whatever you want to call it because if she _did _then I wouldn't be here picking her off the floor like some ragtag broken toy! She's unraveling. Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not…"

"What the hell did are you trying to do with _my_ **Lisa**?" Tim barreled. "I told you, Nate, I told you time and time again. _Leave her alone! _Do you not get that you'll just break her? I only want one thing, Nate, for_ my_ **Lisa** to be in one fucking piece! And then you come right in and do this. What the hell are you thinking?"

"Tim, listen. We're doing this for her. I promise."

"Well, that sounds reassuring, Nate, really," Tim said sarcastically, slamming her fist onto the counter. "You're _going_ to **break** her, Nathan. You don't want to do this."

"I am not, it's not what we're after. You _know _we wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

"You're lying to her," Tim pointed out, calmer now. "You think that won't hurt her when she finds out? Do you think lying about Elliot dying isn't hurting her? She's thinking about coming back, Nate…"

"Which is exactly what she needs to do, Tim, she needs to come home."

"What are you talking about?" Tim asked, curious and suspicious.

"You know me, you know Elliot," Nathan said, sighing. "You think we want to hurt her? You think we want to drag her back here? You know we won't unless we absolutely have to. Tim, we have…reasons. We need to bring her back."

"Why?" Tim gritted out. "Tell me why you're willing to do this to her _now_. Tell me, give me one good reason why I shouldn't go back in there and tell her Elliot _isn't_ dying."

"We need you, Tim."

"She needs me," Tim countered. "She _begged _me, Nathan. Do you get the severity of the situation? She _begged_. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Tim! She was fine when we last spoke!"

"She's not fine now!" she bellowed then proceeded to slam her phone over and over and over again on the counter next to her until her rage was temporarily sated. "She's not fine now when she's crawling out of bottles of Ouzo and Whiskey!"

"Tim, please," this was Nathan Winslow trying to placate her, which of course only furthered her anger more.

"Where's Elliot? I want to talk to Elliot. _NOW!_"

"He's at home, with Damien," Nathan said, pausing. "And Barbara."

"The old bastard and the Barbarian still shacked up, huh? Tell Elliot if he wants his sister back so bad, lying is not the way to get her to go back home. Tell him that because I have been calling that idiot's phone, he's not picking up." She paused. "And don't tell me he's busy dying."

"I'll tell him."

"You didn't answer my question," she growled. "Why do you need her back so bad? Don't think you can distract me, ogre."

"It's…it's for Elise to know alone."

"Fuck that," Tim growled. "She would tell me anyway. Tell me or I ruin everything."

"Tell her, ruin everything and you break everything else in her life," Nathan countered coldly. "I've always done everything for her, Tim, what makes you think I'm not doing that now? And Elliot too—_we_ are doing this _for_ her."

"Nathan."

"_Artemis_, you _knew _we were lying, but you went ahead with this anyway," Nathan hissed. "What would she think if she found out you _knew _and didn't tell her? What then, Tim?"

"You idiot," she hissed. "I came _for _her. You think she'd blame me?"

"Hard to say, Tim," she wanted to kick his pretty boy face for sounding so smug. "What would Lily think if she knew you _knew _Elliot was okay and pretended not to know anyway? You _lied _to her, Tim, you're in this just as we are, the only difference is, _we_ actually _know _what's going on."

"If she knew you could be a son of a bitch, you think she'd come back to you?" Tim taunted. "Come on, Nate, you've always hated I have this much power over her."

"Not if she finds out you lied," Nathan said coolly. "Trust, it's so…fragile, isn't it, Tim?"

"She wouldn't believe you."

"Try me."

"You're one hell of a bastard, Nathan."

"I'm doing this for Elise."

"So you say," Tim said coldly. "But if you wind up breaking _my_ most prized possession, I will go after you, Nathan and I _will _castrate you with a _needle _and a _thread_. Do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Idiot."

"Whore."

"You better know what you're doing, Nate. _The road to hell is paved with good intentions._"

"We do, and thanks for the quote, now go and take care of Elise. She needs you."

"Fuck off," Tim spat as she hung up.

Slamming her phone on the counter, Tim looked around, breathing heavily. She was in a position she was not happy with. Nathan Winslow had easily thrown her into a corner and she was left, for the first time, on one side she hadn't chosen.

The pretty boy bastard finally got his up on her, after all these years and she wanted to kill him.

She didn't have to ask what she had to do. She knew, though she was tempted to tell Lisa everything, she couldn't. She had to know what Elliot and Nathan knew, why they needed her home now after so many years.

She knew the Hardy Boys too well, knew them enough they _wouldn't _hurt Lisa. But _not wanting _and _not meaning to _were two different things.

Tim knew she had to know what they were hiding before she would decide if she would tell Lisa the truth.

Her restless figure paced furiously, _click, click, click _and she didn't like this, she didn't, but it seemed her hands were tied. She damned Nathan Winslow silently as she moved to the fridge, focusing on other tasks at hand.

Did it really matter if Lisa came home? To Tim, she was Lee or Lisa or Leese, but she wasn't really Elise anymore. She moved on and Tim gladly let her. All she wanted was the best for the closest thing she ever had to family.

If someone asked, Tim would say with no hesitation that Lisa was the only thing in the world she would ever truly care about. There was no one else in the world she would drop her business and life for in a heartbeat.

Lisa was what mattered to Tim.

And keeping the truth from her left Tim wondering if that was really for the best. Nathan _and _Elliot seemed to think so and so she wondered what was right.

Nathan Winslow annoyed the hell out of her and she didn't like him, not really, especially not for Lisa, but Elliot was in on everything. She trusted Elliot.

Shaking her head, Tim began to grab things from inside the well-organized fridge, rolling her eyes at her anal retentive friend's unshakable ways. Different name, different life, but she was still as anal as ever. It bugged her how she couldn't shake this one off.

_What's so bad about eggs rolling around the panels anyway? Or drinking straight from the milk carton? Or piling vegetables where they fit?_

Though those things probably didn't matter since she doesn't do any of those—too domestic, even while single, just the thought made her shiver involuntarily.

Pouring orange juice in a glass and the pill bottle from her pocket, she shook off two white circulars pills. It was not aspirin, of course, but so much better. Two ten milligrams of Oxycodone was not bad, just enough to get the head ache off.

Shaking her head, Tim thought back, remembering the amount of alcohol her booze-friendly best friend managed to finish. Shrugging, she grabbed one ten milligram pill and popped it into her mouth and washed it down with the juice.

The conversation with the idiot left her with an annoying headache.

Holding on to the glass and the pill, Tim headed back to the bedroom. She still needed to choose an outfit for boozy. She was sure it'd been months since Lisa went shopping. She would persuade her later to go out again on the weekend.

It would relax Lisa, for one, and Tim was sure her wardrobe needed updating.

Walking by with the click clack of her boots, she stopped when she passed by the guest room. The door was cracked open, leaving her a small view of the inside. Listening intently, she was relieved to hear the shower still running.

"Lookey," she whispered, pushing the door open slightly with one long slender finger. "Oh Lee," she sighed sadly as the door opened wide to reveal a playful yellow room.

At one glance, it could have been a normal room, if it wasn't for the stuffed yellow duck on a chair and the baby themed boarders on the yellow painted wall. At one glance, Tim knew what the room was meant to be.

_A baby's room._

Tim only realized then what Lisa had been keeping for quite sometime now and why the sudden return of Nathan was affecting her the way it was. They spoke at least once a week, for venting purposes on both sides most of the time, but lately Tim had noticed the hesitation in the phone calls and the awkward pauses. She had wondered but didn't say a word, knowing later, Lisa would tell her anyway.

Now she didn't have to and Tim felt sad for her best friend.

She didn't know what happened, but she knew something that Lisa and Elise shared apart from being anal retentive. Very much like Elise, Lisa wouldn't jump and do something unless she was absolutely sure. It was both infuriating at times and Tim teased her about it every chance she got.

Repainting, bordering and buying a stuffed duck was definitely a sign that _something _had been sure and now wasn't.

This was something Tim wouldn't tease about and had an _idea _of how much this could be killing her. The quietness, the pulling back—it made sense now.

Sighing, Tim closed the door tightly. She wouldn't mention it for now.

She had other things she needed Lisa to focus on and one of them was staying in one piece.

And pushing to talk about whatever story that room had to tell, Tim knew it would likely do the opposite of that and she couldn't have that happen now.

Not when things threatened to fall apart all over again.

-o0o-

House burst through the doors of his office, finding his team already in place in front of the board, Foreman sitting in the corner, marker held in hand. "What have we got?"

"Muscle weakness," Taub said, pointing at the board. "MRI was clean, steroids didn't work which all rules out Vasculitis."

"But muscle weakness _is_ another symptom of Fibromyalgia," Kutner said. "The tests were inconclusive."

"I told you to be careful," House muttered. "Muscle weakness, what else? Has she been feeling achy? Or pukey?"

"She mentioned she did feel fatigue and some numbness at night," Thirteen said. "She brushed them off since it's pretty much how she feels every day. ALL was also negative."

"Those are symptoms for Vasculitis," House said, frowning. "I thought you ruled it out."

"She isn't, we are," Taub said as House took the marker and wrote the two symptoms under Vasculitis. "The biopsy for ALL was negative."

"Yes, I got that when she said the exact same thing," House said sarcastically. "So what, is this girl versus boys or," he glanced at Foreman. "Are the hopeless Foreteen uniting in their front to win this patients life?"

Foreman shook his head. "More symptoms point to Vasculitis. ALL was negative and tests for Fibromyalgia are not always reliable."

"And there's my answer," House said, shaking his head. "Love," he spat the word like sour milk.

Thirteen glanced at Foreman who shook his head. Kutner smirked at Taub who was staring at their boss. "So what is it? Fibromyalgia or Vasculitis?"

"What about Hypokalemia?" Kutner offered. "Muscle cramps come with dancing too."

"Potassium levels are fine," Thirteen said.

"It's not Hypokalemia," House muttered as he took his seat at the head of the table, slamming his cane on the table. "Explains weakness, myalgia and your imaginary cramps, but not everything else…Did she eat this morning?"

Kutner looked at Taub who looked at Thirteen, "Her food was untouched when she complained about the pain. She asked for pain relief."

"Did it interrupt her meal or was she not hungry?" House asked. "Loss of appetite is also a symptom Vasculitis."

"If she has loss of appetite, it could be Acanthocytosis," Kutner said. "It would explain myalgia, weakness, fatigue—"

"You're stretching," Taub said. "Unless she's anorexic or is going through chronic renal failure or has HARP syndrome then no. It's between Vasculitis and Fibromyalgia."

"I'm diagnosing," Kutner said, frowning.

"You're wrong," Taub countered. "Hypokalemia and Acanthocytosis are both wrong."

"Shut up," House said, closing his eyes. "Get me _another _MRI and see if she likes a nice slice of pie. If it's Vasculitis, her symptoms will come. Give her steroids if they do. If it's Firbomyalgia, give her Dopamine. If other symptoms outside both diagnoses come, we're back to zero. Go."

Waving them off, all except Foreman left the room and watched as House settled back in his seat, tilting his head back. "Get me a cup of coffee, would you?"

He didn't have to look to see the younger doctor raise his eyebrows. He listened as the sound of clanging cups and pouring liquid filled the silent office.

"Late night?"

"Drinks with the Wonder Boy…"

"Ah, the joys of hangover," Foreman said sarcastically.

"Yeah, you're girlfriend would know," House shot back. "How're the fake drug trials going?"

"They're not fake," Foreman said. "We're getting results."

"Everyone except girly-locks," House said, opening his eyes to pierce him with a look. "She's been getting placebos."

Foreman handed him his cup, his eyes critical. "No, she isn't."

"Tell it to the guy who broke into the trial files, checked results and looked for future-dead girly-locks' name," House said with grim satisfaction. "They've switched her to placebos…so, how's the sex?"

"You shouldn't have said that to me," Foreman ground out. "I know her, we're together and since I know this, you just screwed up the trial."

"Technically no," House said, smirking. "_You _**will **screw up the trial _because _you _know_. I'm simply relaying information in case you start wondering why she's slapping and screaming at you for no reason. And besides," he shrugged. "You're already schtupping her, it's as screwed up as it gets. Nepotism and sex at their best, lucky bastard…"

Foreman stood there, glaring at him.

"The trials are only screwed up _if _you do something about it," House went on, unfazed. "The question is: are you going to do something about it? Do you love her enough to risk _your _career?"

"Stop it," Foreman said quietly. "Just because you're alone and miserable doesn't mean you have to screw up her only chance along with every other patient's in that trial."

"I'm not the one doing the screwing," House said, shrugging again as he sipped his coffee. "I'm just a guy with information. It's all up to the loving doctor boyfriend."

"You're one hell of a bastard," Foreman said. "You're really this bored, huh?"

"Cool," House grinned sardonically. "It's only eight and I've been called a name other than ass. Gotta be a record."

Foreman didn't say anything and just stared, shaking his head.

"To screw or not to screw," House said, grinning. "_That _is the question."

Scoffing, the African-American doctor left the room. If he could slam the door, he would have and House knew, but didn't care. He needed answers and he was getting them

_Did he love her enough to risk everything he ever worked for?_

Somewhere, he already knew what was going to happen. To see how Foreman was going to react was going to be interesting. A part of him knew he was really being a bastard, but he didn't care. This was how he was, it was just a matter of getting used to.

Scowling as he finished the coffee, he placed his cup back onto the glass table.

Foreman made the coffee, obviously, and he still sucked at it.

-o0o-

"Tim?" Cuddy called as she came from the bathroom, toweling her hair as she went and dressed in only her peach robe that stopped to her thighs. She was drinking the last of the orange juice Tim had brought her in the bathroom, the pill she'd downed before going out.

"Saks is screaming for you."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Excuse me if I don't have enough time to just drop everything and visit Saks in_ New York City _while I'm here in _New Jersey_."

Tim was on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, coat laid across her bed, an outfit laid next to her. "Well, you could always, oh, I don't know…stop this and go back with me?"

"Stop what?" Cuddy asked, looking over the outfit prepared for her. She frowned at the black lace garters laid next to her stockings. She picked them up, intent on putting them back.

"No," Tim said, shaking her head. "You're wearing those."

"Tim," Cuddy sighed. "I'm not much into the hell bitch in heat look at the office."

Tim smirked. "Of course not, Lee, of _course _not."

Cuddy shook her head. "Seriously."

"They look good with the outfit," Tim promised. "And what I mean by stop this is _this_." She waved her hands, gesturing around the bedroom.

"What?" Cuddy asked, lifting the silk purple blouse from the bed.

Tim shrugged. "All of it. Come to New York with me, we can do things we used to do, live at my place and everything. It'll be great."

Flashes of the words written on the card she'd burnt to ashes, Cuddy shook her head. "I like where I am you know that, Tim."

"Okay," Tim said, nodding. "Okay then, moving on. What do you plan to do with Stinky Binky?"

"Didn't I already say not to call him that?" Cuddy wondered aloud, scowling as she picked up the pair of matching black lace underwear that matched the garters. "Not these."

"Why not?" Tim asked. "On both counts."

"His name is Nathan or Nate, you've known him as long as you've known me, he's name is _not _Stinky Binky," Cuddy said, shaking her head as she headed to her drawers. "And not these because I don't wear them for work, they're for," she looked at the woman over her shoulder coyly. "Play."

"Oh, sexy," Tim teased. "And Nate, Nathan, Stinky Binky or moron—who gives a shit? Oh, and wear those, you might just play today."

Cuddy turned, shaking her head. "I don't have sex in the office."

"You don't have sex at all," Tim pointed out. "Which is a shame really, Virgin Mary, because you are one hot ass. If I was gay, I'd totally do you."

"Tim!" Cuddy cried, blushing a faint pink.

"What, it's true," Tim said, looking as if she didn't know what she'd said wrong. "You are hot! Why are you not getting laid?"

"You know why," Cuddy muttered as she began to put on the lingerie Tim had picked out for her, the intention to trade them now forgotten. There was no use in fighting anyway, Tim would have won one way or another, even if she had to wrestle her into the hooker wear.

"That House guy from college?" Tim groused. "God, then fuck _him_. You did way back when, I'm sure he still knows how to now."

"No," Cuddy said. "I don't sleep with my employees and," she scoffed as she began to roll the black stockings up her right leg to her thighs, her leg stretched out in front of her as she sat on the bed. "He is an ass with a perverse fascination in making my life miserable. He's a child."

"Kinky," Tim said with a grin, eyeing her every move. "Total pedo, but it's gotta be hot. A man child." She laughed. "And that's a total porn star move, you know."

Cuddy chuckled as she began to put on the other one of her left leg. "You are sick, but I love you. Trust you to know how a porn star moves. No, I am not sleeping with Gregory House again, besides," she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he has a brothel full of hookers waiting."

"See? He pays for sex, why would he turn down a freebie from you?" Tim teased again, earning herself a slap on the arm. "Hey! That hurt!"

"Shut up," Cuddy chided and Tim tossed her the garters and she clipped them on easily with tiny little bows. "That was mean."

"Of course it is," Tim said, grinning as she sat back, her hands braced behind her, stretching her top over her full breasts. "Tough love is good love. You need to try it on Tripod Boy."

"Artemis Lynn Theodoratus I did not just hear you call him that!" Cuddy screeched, standing with her hands on her hips, robe open to reveal her complete look, lacey lingerie with garters and all.

Cuddy wasn't aware but her best friend was staring at her thinking precisely with naughty thoughts fit more inside a man's head on how she looked ready to seduce. Tim would bet an easy grand that no man would be able to resist her looking like that.

_Take a look on what you're missing, boys, her celibacy is hell's gift along with blue balls._

Tim laughed instead. "Come on, I was just name-calling. It's not like he doesn't deserve it, like Stinky Binky. He's an idiot."

"You think everybody is an idiot," Cuddy muttered, dropping her robe and proceeding to ignore the lecherous whistling that followed.

"I know I'm right," she said, twirling a lock of straight black hair. Head cocked to the side, staring at her. "See? Men should worship Frederick Mellinger and forever bask in the shrine of La Perla. You got the goods, be proud. Show off."

"You've always liked my ass," Cuddy grinned as she began to put on the skirt.

"And your boobs," Tim said, grinning. "Not that I don't like mine," she looked down. "But if I could, I'd disown my ass…and then drug you and get yours for myself. Ass transplant."

"How very Frankenstein of you," Cuddy said dryly, reaching for the silk blouse. "Shit, I am so late for work…"

"Who cares?" Tim said. "Your ER Barbie was late too."

Cuddy shrugged. "Don't care, it's not my pay that'll get cut. I care about me."

"Like you need the pay," Tim laughed. "Shit, Lee, you know you don't need their money. You could _buy _that damned place yourself."

The doctor ignored her as she continued to dress, buttoning up her blouse. She headed to her vanity and sat down, ready to put her make up on.

"Leave your hair down," Tim said as she watched then she got up. "Wait, you know what, here…"

"No," Cuddy said, lipstick in hand. "Uh-uh, we are not playing dress up. I'm already late."

"Like you can stop me anyway?" Tim said as she got up. "Where's the hair crap?"

"Drawer to my left," Cuddy said, sighing to herself. She sat back as Tim reached for the hair dryer and turned it on, giving her a wicked smile. She smiled back.

She was so late for work yet the simple image she saw on the mirror reminded her of some memories she'd long forgotten. Wasn't it just yesterday when they sat doing each other's hair and make up, making a big pretty mess in her mother's dressing room?

"So," Tim said, working on Cuddy's hair. "When are we going to talk about what we're supposed to talk about that we don't want to talk about?"

"Don't know," Cuddy said, her eyes falling to her lap. "I can hold out for a long time. Got a lot of staying power, you know."

"Lisa," the name flowed easily from her lips. It had taken some getting used to, before, but now, seeing her looking so much like Elisabeth, Tim thought it perfect.

"Ellie didn't call me," Cuddy said softly. "I…He's sick, Tim, _really _sick and I want to go back—"

"You can't."

"I won't," Cuddy said. "Unless he calls me himself. I know Ellie…if he wanted me there, if he _needed _me there, he would call me himself."

"He helped you do this, be who you want to be," Tim said, frowning. "And it was crazy, at first, but look at you now, you're great. He wanted this, Lee, he wouldn't take it all away now. He loves you too much. If he wants you to stay here, stay."

Cuddy nodded. "So I should stay? You think that's right?"

Tim sighed. "We wait, Lee, and see what happens."

"Nathan will be back," Cuddy said, softly. "I don't know if I can face him again."

"The idiot is still in love with you," Tim gagged. "Are you still…"

Cuddy shook her head. "I don't know, Tim…I don't…I don't know."

Tim stopped, staring at her through the mirror. "You _think _you still love him?"

"I don't know."

"Either you do or you don't, Lee," Tim insisted. "Which is it?"

"I don't know."

"Do you love Nathan?"

Cuddy's eyes met hers, "I don't _know_."

-o0o0o0o0o-

_Dun, dun, duuuuuuun…_

Does she? _I don't know. _What do you think?

So, there you have it, _Artemis Lynn Theodoratus_. I hope you liked her first appearance. See? I updated early. I was this excited to introduce her.

What do you think? And I hope nobody minds I'm altering the whole Foreteen thing with the Drug Trials…huh, not really a fan of Foreteen, but it's there so…there.

Fanfiction imitating Television, minimal appearance of Cameron/Chase/Chameron—sorry for the fans (if there are readers of them reading this) I'm working on it.

And the medicine, again, please don't bother…not my forte, but I hope you know I _am _trying to make it work, make it believable.

And then there's Jimmy…love Jimmy. Lucas _might _come next chapter or probably _after _that. He does need to dig and dig. We'll see how that one works, okay? House's little brothers working together…cute, huh?

Oh, and yes, you read it right. Mama House is coming to town. Now you just have to tell me if you want her in the story. If not, I'll trash her tickets. Seriously.

Anyway, please review! I really, really, really love reviews!

_Oh, and what do you guys think about Tim and House __**meeting**__?_

_I'm Awake, it's Morning _by _Bright Eyes_

**Feel free to answer my questions and suggest stuff. Opinions count most too; your thoughts on Tim, Lisa and everyone else are more than welcome!**

Lots and lots of love,  
xoxOphelia

Oh and something I wrestled about...I'm not sure if it's right to post this, but I gotta vent somewhere...

I was reading this fic about Stacy/House and it was fairly new, I think. Anyway, it ended with Hameron, it was a one shot…one short Hameron bit and I was curious, you know? So I checked the reviews, I don't know if anyone cares, but it pissed me off when I read the reviews. Someone reviewed that there were a lot of "repulsive" Huddy fics that flooded …I'm not sure if this is important, but gawd…seriously? I'm not a Hameron, but I don't bash like that. Shite, that's just mean. I'm not pro Hameron, but I've _**never**_ used terms like "repulsive" on them. That's just mean.

Why can't we all just stay on our side and not throw useless barbs like that? "Repulsive" is just harsh. Seriously. When you hear it, it sounds like it drips with acid…ugh. Mean. Mean. Mean. I really hate this war thing. Can't we all just not poke and prod and stay out of each other's way? It's my fault, I know, for checking out reviews, but…man. I did not expect that. Harsh.


	13. Chapter 12: The First Cut is the Deepest

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Note:

**I literally **_**died**_** when I saw I had ONE HUNDRED and THIRTY ONE reviews! Damn, last time I checked, I was around 107. Gawd, you guys have **_**NO **_**idea how happy I am. Really, lip smacking, idiot giggling, hair-pulling crazy happy. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! This is…BIG. Thank you so, so, sooooo much.**

_**And I do have to confess, I deliberately made you guys think Tim was a man. One of the reasons I was so excited to introduce her, really. I thought it would be fun. I'm so glad you guys seem to like her enough and I hope you'll still like her as the story continues. **_

_**AND some of you guys mentioned she was like a female version of House and I gotta say, had you not pointed it out, I never would have realized it! I honestly was not thinking about House while creating her, honest! Even if you roll your eyes and say, 'yeah, right', I swear, Artemis was not based on House. But it's a bonus if you like her for that! If not then…oops? LOL I wouldn't know what to do about that.**_

Oh, and I think I might as well bite the bullet. As many have pointed out that I might just crowd the story with a big, big cast, I'm afraid the chapters will have to stretch longer. Maybe. I hope you guys don't mind. I'll try to make it less dragging, promise!

Anyway, I love you and I thank you for the awesome reviews!

Cuddy gets a little OoC, I'm sorry! Tim gets a little…well, Tim. House gets a room with Nathan (no pun intended) and we get news on the patient. I apologize for the OoCness, but in my defense, she's supposed to be…a different non-not Cuddy, right? Never mind.

Poof! And I give you, chapter twelve!

Chapter Twelve: The First Cut is the Deepest

With the _thump, thump, thump _of his cane, House pushed his way through the Clinic, ignoring the screeching calls as Nurse Cerberus-Brenda waved Clinic patient folders at him, nagging him about his endless Clinic hours.

He rolled his eyes at her. God, she was like one of those pathetic movies. First, you get Something-something then next year you get Something-something ­_part TWO _which would predictably turn out even more pathetic and stupid and ten times worst as the first one. You didn't know it was possible, but the second part proves you wrong.

Yup, Cuddy Part Two was definitely _not _anywhere near better. In fact, this was worst since House found nothing to ogle at on that insipid nurse. Yes, this was one of the tragedies in his life…

_Sigh, dramatically…_

After a phone call from the ground floor lobby to his team who were all up in the Diagnostics office, he'd been informed about a clear MRI and more pain. He'd scoffed and scolded them for waking him up with practically no change in the patient and snapped at them to not call unless something "earth-shattering" happened to the patient. He'd hung up with a frown and now he was headed to his daily fun zone.

And free Peep-a-Boob play-place.

He pushed through the glass doors that lead to the first part of the office. The assistant jumped, startled. "Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy is not—"

"La-la-la," House sang loudly. "Can't hear you!"

He ignored the younger woman and headed straight for the doors, grabbing the handles and tried to turn them only to find them locked. "What the hell?"

He turned to look Cody. "Where's the She Devil?"

Cody suppressed a smile as she turned to her computer. "She's not in yet. She's running a bit late, Dr. House."

House stared at her for a moment then at the doors. "Okay then, I'll just wait inside."

"The doors are locked," Cody said, resuming her typing.

He smirked. "Then it's a good thing I've got a key then, right?"

Cody looked up, eyes wide. "Dr. House! Dr. Cuddy will not appreciate…"

"Blah, blah," House said, turning back to the doors as he dug out a ring of keys from his pocket. "She'll get screechy at you for letting you in but once I dangle these babies," he jingled the ring of silver keys, making them clang against each other loudly. "You're off the hook and she finds out I've got her office key, house key and, oh, this is a secret, but," he grinned, dangling one lone key playfully. "This is the key to her chastity belt."

Cody gave him a look.

"Yeah, hot, huh?" he grinned before turning back to the doors. "You might as well know, she likes it kind of freaky. Not that you'll ever find out yourself," he paused. "Although, that would be _so _hot, huh? Call me if you do. I'll let Thirteen in on it…God. I'd die happy."

"I'll let her know, Dr. House, she just might take you up on that if you promise the last part," Cody shook her head. "But if she finds you in there, I'm not stopping her from doing anything. I think the paperweight was a preview yesterday."

House scowled. "No, that was _foreplay_."

The assistant shook her head, smirking and continued her work. House stuck out his tongue at her and headed inside, slamming the doors shut. "Nosey," he muttered as he headed for the couch, plopping himself down, his cane faithfully laid on his chest.

He pulled his iPod out and slipped on the headphones then proceeded to cross his arms over his chest, pinning his cane to his body. He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of The Who blare into his ears.

All he had to do now was wait.

-o0o-

Cuddy tied the belt of her coat around her waist as she stepped out of her house, Tim trailing behind her. She eyed the car in front of her house and turned to her friend who was grinning.

"What?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Real subtle."

"Hey," Tim said, pointing her finger at her. "Just because I had to drag my butt here to New-freaking-Jersey, doesn't mean I have to do it looking like crap and sweetie, you _know _cars and transportation are included in looking fabby."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, but Timmy," she gestured to the car. "People will talk."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, it's not like it's yours. For all they know, I'm the more fabulous younger sister."

"You're older than me," Cuddy pointed out. "By how much again?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm prettier," Tim said cheekily.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I'm using my car, follow me?"

Tim laughed. "Follow _you_? You are kidding me, right? Honey, I love you, but _God_, you drive so slow sometimes I don't even know if it's still you behind the wheel!"

Cuddy gave her a look. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean," Tim slung her arm over Cuddy's shoulder, turning her away from her garage and directing her to the awaiting black Jaguar that sat by the curb, waiting to be driven. "Where was that girl who crashed that Mercedes in LA? Where was that girl who stole her daddy's new BMW when she was fourteen? _Where _is that girl who raced through Connecticut with me and Stinky Binky laughing her head off? How old was she again, oh, right, _sixteen_!"

"She's not the same girl anymore," Cuddy mumbled, trying to shrug off the hold on her shoulder. "It's been years since I broke the speed limit. Becoming a doctor…it changes you, Tim, just like growing up."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Please, we're in New Jersey. What the hell could happen?"

Cuddy shook her head. "No."

"Just once," Tim taunted. "We'll drive through. I'll get your Caddy, you get my car and we drive through before you get to the office. Come on, Lee, you're already late as it is, why not make the best of it with your bestest friend in the whole wide world?"

"It's snowing," Cuddy warned. "It's dangerous."

"My car is safe," Tim promised. "I just had the tires changed. They're perfect for pesky snow and knowing _you_, your wheels should be the same."

Cuddy shook her head. "Tim…"

"Lee," Tim said, hugging her on the side. "Just once…I miss my wild child."

Cuddy kept her lips in a thin line before the corners of her lips began to curl up in a smile. "It _has _been a while since…"

"Mhmm…" Tim said, grinning.

"As long as we're careful," Cuddy said slowly. "And I've missed driving…"

"Mhmm…" Tim hummed again, smiling wickedly, looking triumphant.

Then suddenly Cuddy shook head. "No, we're sticking to the speed limit."

Tim frowned. "Then why drive it anyway?"

Cuddy pulled out her keys. "Just follow me?"

Tim pouted petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We'll take the back alleys," Cuddy promised. "There are virtually no cars there mostly and then when we cross the bridge, you can speed away as promised. Just watch out for those moving things with two legs called people."

"Fine," Tim sighed as she swiped the keys and tossed hers in return. "You owe me. When we get to Europe, you owe me a ride. I'm sure Dimitri would _love_ to see you again. That rat-bastard…"

The bitterness and envy dripped from her voice, making the younger one laugh.

"Fine, fine, just shut up and drive," Cuddy said, feeling the pangs of doubt creep up again. "Don't get killed, don't kill anyone _and _don't overtake me."

It'd been years since she even thought about Dimitri Hunt, the beautiful stranger they'd met while trekking around Denmark. The same beautiful creature who had driven them miles over the speed limit with his Lamborghini and later taught her to drive as fast and as well.

The disdain and scowl on the then blonde Artemis had been amusingly unforgettable.

Tim scoffed. "You are being such a buzz kill."

Cuddy laughed, tossing her head back, her now wavy hair, thanks to Tim, bouncing softly. "Let's just go before I change my mind and say no to driving altogether?"

"Fine!"

Cuddy laughed again as she headed to the black car while Tim headed to the garage, muttering to herself about being cheated. The doctor heard snippets, but chose to laugh instead.

Feeling the tingling sensation as she slipped into the smooth leather seat of the sports car, she felt warmth envelope her. God, she loved fast, _gorgeous _cars. This was one of her most kept secrets, something a Hospital Administrator shouldn't even think about, but she couldn't help herself. She'd been born to love for fast cars.

Shaking her head slightly and ignoring the nagging voice that, to her amusement, sounded like Wilson, she stuck the key in and started the engine, watching through the rearview mirror as her garage door opened and her red Cadillac rolled out.

Cuddy smiled and lowered her window as the red car positioned behind her. She waved once then pulled her hand back in, and let the window slide back in place, minding the hair Tim had worked to look perfect. She revved the engine, cringing at the sound, but at the same time loving it with a soft purr inside of her.

_Did she mention she loved fast cars?_

Grinning, she eased out, teasing Tim behind her, moving impossibly slow on a clear street. Then with a glance, a mischievous smile and then a smirk at the car behind her, she pressed on the gas pedal and sped off.

The usual drive to her office was fifteen minutes and at the rate she was intending on going through the alleys and the bridge, Cuddy was sure she would be there in less than half that time.

Drinking, driving and Tim in her car—_Elise_ was coming out to play.

And a part of Cuddy hated it while the other, who missed snippets of her old life, reveled in bliss.

_Elise was happy to be alive again, if only for a moment._

-o0o-

Sticking closely to the speeding Jaguar in front of her, Tim drove mindlessly, letting her body maneuver through the almost empty streets through Princeton. As long as the black Jaguar was in front of her, her body would follow.

Right now she had some thinking to do.

With both hands on the wheel, her mind raced. She tried to asses what was happening around them, why things were starting to unravel after twenty-years. There was a reason Elliot and Nathan were bringing her back, but what?

If they were willing to risk bringing Lisa back into that world, it had to be important.

Shaking her head, she reached for her phone, slipping the communicator into her ear as her phone connected with a number. "Answer, you idiot," she muttered as she made a sharp turn, following Lisa still as she drove expertly through the town.

"Tim?"

"Yeah. We need to talk."

"Where are you?"

"Princeton. Didn't Stinky Binky tell you?"

"No."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Moron."

"What is it, Tim? Anything I can help you with?"

"Elliot," Tim said, levelly. "I need the truth."

She heard him sigh deeply. "Tim…"

"If it's that bad, I won't tell her, I'll wait for you," Tim said softly. "I just…I can't be in the dark if I'm the one she wants. I can't just walk in there knowing nothing when she needs me."

She waited as he paused, knowing he was thinking it over, positive he trusted her enough to tell her. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was Elliot's unbroken trust on her.

"It's dad."

Tim sucked in a breath and let it out with an irritated huff. "What about Damien?"

"What did Nathan tell you?"

"That he's dragging her back through that hell for her own good."

"That's true. What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing," Tim said, slowing down with a curse as she hit a red light. "But Lisa told me a lot of things. Something about you dying, which is interesting because you looked kind of alive to me, what, five days ago, I think?"

Elliot sighed. "It's the only way…"

"She won't come unless _you_ call her," Tim said, shaking her head, tapping her nails against the steering wheel, watching the light and knowing full well Lisa was probably too far by then.

"I know, but Tim," she could hear desperation in his voice. "I _can't _lie to her…Nathan's doing this favor already, I'll owe him for life, but I _can't_ lie to her."

"She mentioned cancer," she said as the light turned green and she sped off. "Are you really dying, Elliot?"

"No, of course not," he insisted. "But she needs to come home."

"Why?" Tim slowed the car a little, not wanting to get to the hospital while she didn't have all the facts. "Why now?"

"I…it's complicated," Elliot said, sounding grim.

"Did you ever think about telling her the truth?" she asked gently. She always had a soft spot for him, but of course, her loyalty was to his sister.

This call and what she knew, of course, didn't count as betrayal—or as she kept telling herself. _This _wasn't betrayal, she was looking out for Lisa.

_If she keeps repeating it enough, she _thinks _she might start believing it._

"She might stay farther away if I do," the man on the other confessed. "It's dad, Tim."

"What about Damien?" she asked again, sounding indifferent. While there was a slim to none chance Lisa might forgive her father, Tim would not, friendship and loyalty be damned. And if it was up to her, she'd burn Barbara the Barbarian to hell if she could.

_The burning would be slow and painful, slow enough to send her into total madness and leave her a ball of burning insanity before Hell would be forced open to welcome her home, Satan's Bride. Even the damned bastard wouldn't be able to stand her._

"Things are changing," Elliot said softly. "And if I tell her it's about dad and Barbara is still around, she won't come. I'm not dying."

"And since she thinks you are, she will, eventually," Tim shook her head. "You're being a moron. You're manipulating her."

"I know, but this has to be done. How else can I bring her home?"

"What does Damien want?" there was always something.

"Nothing, but he misses her."

Tim rolled her eyes, her jaw clenching. "If he missed her, he would have come for her. Who the hell abandons their daughter, Elliot? Princeton is less than two hours away. Didn't he even think about visiting? Twenty-years, Elliot, twenty-goddamned-years…"

Lisa's pain was her pain, the difference was they had different ways of expressing and coping. The real daughter, Lisa, stayed away and licked her wounds silently, Tim, the outsider, wrapped it in a neat little package with a pretty red bow of rage.

"Tim, please…"

"He hurt her and he _let_ his wife hurt her, now he wants her back?" Tim spat. "What the hell for? If it's the goddamned money, we _all _know she doesn't need it. Not from him. _Fuck_ his goddamned business, Elliot. She _doesn't_** need **_him_."

Tim knew that Elliot knew enough of her rage to let her let it out than interrupt her.

"And goddamn it," Tim snarled. "If she _did _need money, you think she would come to him? You think she'd come back? Hell, I'd take her in myself before I let her do that. Fuck Damien and his demented wife. Lisa's better off without them. She got out and it saved her, shoving her right back in there will just shatter everything _we _have worked so hard for. Everything _she _worked goddamn hard for. The ass couple can go to hell, fuck-them-very-much."

Rant momentarily over, Tim heard Elliot sigh, "Dad doesn't know."

Tim raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What?"

"Dad doesn't know," Elliot repeated. "I'm…I need Lily back. This is me."

"You took her away," Tim pointed out. "You took her away to make her happy. Why bring her back now? Elliot, are you out of your mind?!"

"You know about the cancer," Elliot said, sighing. "I'm assuming Lily explained it to you?"

Tim cursed as she found herself nearing the hospital. "Yes. Six months to live. It's ripping her apart, Ellie. You know this."

"Because she thinks it's me."

"Yes, what else do you expect when Nathan said it was you?" Tim snapped, losing control for a moment of her emotions while the car she drove rode swiftly through. "It's killing her and its pissing me off with all the lies and the secrets. You're better than this and she deserves better than this. What's the truth?"

"It's dad."

"Yeah, I got that. What are you talking about?" Tim felt her throat go dry.

Something was not right.

_The answer lingered in her mind, but she refused to acknowledge or believe it._

"Our father is dying. _Damien _is dying."

Tim felt her hands freeze. "Fuck," was all she could say.

She pulled over the side of the road, her foot pushing on the breaks, her eyes wide, her lips parted, her hands frozen on the wheel.

_Shit._

-o0o-

Nathan strode through the doors of the Clinic, smiling at the Nurses as he passed and headed for Elise's office. His smile widened when he saw the assistant seated at her desk again. "Hello, Miss Gomez. Good morning."

The young woman looked up, "Oh, Mr. Winslow. You're back!"

"Yes," Nathan said, smiling. "Is Dr. Cuddy in? I've spoken with my brother about our plans."

Cody smiled sympathetically. "That's good, but I'm sorry. Dr. Cuddy is not in yet. She's running a bit late, it seems."

Nathan nodded. "Right…" he looked in the empty office. "Would you mind so much if I waited in her office?"

He watched the young woman glance inside the office, biting her bottom lip. "Uh…"

"I promise, I won't touch anything," he smiled charmingly. "I'd just really like to see her. Make arrangements and such."

Cody sighed. "Right. Well, it's open, if you'd like to come in."

Nathan smiled winningly. "Thank you so much, Miss Gomez."

The young woman smiled. "You can call me Cody."

As much as it shamed him, he reveled at the old Winslow Charm and its powers when it worked for his own benefit. He's been told time and time again it's worked for years, something inherited and great. He didn't think so, until now. His charming ladies' man of a grandfather had taught him that at a very young age.

"Very well then, Cody," he grinned. "I'll be going in now."

"Okay," she said, watching him as he went.

Flashing her one more smile, he opened one side of the doors and slipped inside.

He wondered, of course, if she was okay. Tim had been plenty furious enough and even though he didn't agree or, in all honesty, like her on most cases, he couldn't deny she was a good friend to Elise. Right from the start, despite his reservations, the crazy wild child had been good and loyal. Of course, a part of him loathed himself for using Tim and pushing her into a corner, but, as his mantra went these days, _it had to be done._

His thoughts, mixed with guilt and the ten-thousand possible ways this plan could fail, were interrupted when he saw a figure in the corner, resting on the couch who said, "You're late, mommy. I need my diaper changed."

Cocking his head to the side and glancing around him, Nathan watched the man as he opened one eye that immediately landed on him which caused the other to snap open. A frown appeared and the cool blue eyes turned cold in the most threatening glare he had been subjected to.

He wondered what he'd done to receive such look from a man he'd met only yesterday.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh," Nathan said, glancing at Cody again who seemed to be back to work. "Cody allowed me to wait inside Dr. Cuddy's office."

The name sounded too foreign to him and he fought the urge to just explode and scream she wasn't Lisa Cuddy, she wasn't from New Jersey and she wasn't what everyone seemed to think she was. She simply _wasn't_.

But he wouldn't and couldn't do that for too many reasons, one of them was he cared about her too much to shatter her world just like that.

"Thanks," the man grumbled. "I'll tell Cuddy to fire her today."

Nathan raised his eyebrows. "I don't think that's necessary."

"She's an idiot," the man said, still halfway lying on the couch, his eyes never leaving his in a battle of icy blue and green eyes. "If she wasn't, she wouldn't let a potentially insane stranger walk in her boss's office."

"You just implied that I'm insane," Nathan said, frowning despite his amusement at the peculiar man who seemed to be quite observant. He'd seen enough the previous day, having witnessed how easily he figured out the 'patient' without direct questions or actual viewing.

He had an idea why Elise tolerated the messy man.

"_No_," he said, shaking his head. "I said 'potentially', there's a difference."

"What's the difference?" Nathan challenged.

"_Potentially _means you _could _be insane," he said, picking up his iPod off his chest and proceeding to tinker with it. "_Implying _would be me _actually _saying _without _saying you're insane."

"Ah," Nathan said, grinning. "Dr. House, right?"

"Yes," House nodded. "But I'm also known as Cuddy's S&M partner, her sperm donor, sex slave, gimp fantasy, hot stud, boyfriend-slash-husband, fuck buddy—"

Nathan raised his hand. "Yes, whatever you say," he grinned. This man was a piece of work. "I'm just here to talk about my brother."

"The idiot," House nodded.

"He's agreed to…consider relocating," Nathan said, ignoring the jab in hopes of not getting in any sort of altercation. He came for Elise; he would speak only to Elise.

"Consider?" House spat. "You're letting the patient decide? Very smart. Why not just give him a bottle of sleeping pills and instruct: take all before dinner?"

Nathan shook his head and walked over to the seat in front of the desk. "Thank you for your input, however, I'll leave my discussion for Dr. Cuddy."

He felt his heart skip a beat as he uttered the name once again.

"Dr. Cuddy is late _again_," House said with an obnoxious roll of his eyes, apparently having not enough. "She's always late, the little slacker. You know how she got to the top-est seat in here? Her tops and her fuck worthy feminine wiles. You've seen her, you came back. You _know_." He grinned. "But then again, who can blame the old farts, right? She is hot. Best pair of God-given funbags in the state, practically."

The derogatory remarks left Nathan feeling a little irritated. This man was Elise's subordinate, didn't he respect her? He was starting to find him less amusing and more annoying.

_Who the hell did he think he was?_

Nathan turned away from the hideously unkempt doctor and sat back, reaching for his BlackBerry. Perhaps Elliot would like to hear about this.

_Elise couldn't actually be happy having this moron for an employee, right?_

He would call Elliot, if only to stop himself from hitting the son of a bitch of a doctor, knowing Elise would not forgive that, seeing she seemed to be well acquainted with the slob.

Searching the number, he ignored House as he started humming loudly, some song that was unfamiliar to Nathan.

Sitting back, he pressed his phone to his ear.

Then he frowned when he got a busy line and was immediately sent to voicemail.

He cursed inwardly, having an idea who would be talking to Elliot.

Damn, he knew he should have called first.

If there was another thing Artemis Theodoratus was good at, aside from being a bitch, it was talking people into things.

The bitch was a goddamned lawyer after all.

-o0o-

Cuddy glanced at the rearview mirror as she wove through an empty alley she usually drove through during traffic. She frowned when the road behind her was empty. Easing her foot off the gas pedal and slowing the car, she waited for the red car to appear behind her and frowned deeper when nothing happened.

Slowing the car enough for her to drive safely with one hand, she tugged her phone out. She frowned when Tim's line was busy and she was sent to voicemail.

"Tell me you didn't kill anyone," she sighed. "And tell me you're still alive." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I need you to pick up. I'm not parking this car in my space so meet me a block away from the hospital? We're switching back before I get attached. I'll be waiting. You better be alive."

She pushed her phone back, sighing as she wondered what detour her sometimes demented best friend did now. She tightened her hand on the wheel as she imagined what sort of damage she'd have done on her car by now.

Meanwhile, she would just have to enjoy her last moments with _this_ beautiful creation.

Grinning in a way that would have left Greg House staring in lust, her foot hit the gas pedal again, pushing the car up to a more illegal speed. If House could see her now…

"Stop," she hissed at herself. Why was she thinking about him anyway?

Then again, he would probably find her driving like this in _this _car sexy…

Gritting her teeth and unconsciously hitting the gas pedal again, she silently screamed at herself for being so pathetic, thinking about a man who preferred hookers and _tattooed _whores to _real _women who didn't need ten dollars just to be touched.

"Idiot pervert," she muttered, her eyes turning cold as her mind replayed that scene in her head.

_Wilson, table, med school, elevator, numbers, halls, glass, door, tattoos, leather jacket, black top, dumb-hooker-blonde hair, __tattoos__, a dirty woman, a stupid dirty old man…ass._

"Son of a bitch," she hissed, gripping the wheel tighter, willing the image to go away.

With pure feral rage, she pushed on, running through the empty alley roads, suspiciously empty of any hindrance that would have forced her to slow down. For once, the world was cooperating with her enough to let her emotions out before she destroyed everything for not having anywhere to vent. Today, the world was letting her take it out on the road and the wheels of the Jaguar.

_Quiet, papers, pencil, work, quiet, calm, alone, silence, work, peace, voice, Cody, name, Mr. Winslow, tremble, voice, door, pencil_s, _line, smile, familiar…Nathan Winslow. Elliot, cancer…_

Then the tears came and she almost closed her eyes.

"Shit," she hissed, the car slowing suddenly as her vision clouded over. "Oh, god…"

Like a bullet train, her life was once more a mess she could not hold together.

A mocking voice, _"Ladies and gentlemen, doctors, lawyers, employees and family, feast your eyes on a surreal, tragic, _**pathetic**_, wonder, be amazed as you witness the unbreakable broken!"_

With trembling lips, she stopped the car with a screech; hand pressed over her mouth, breathing through her nose, eyes wide, memories rampant. "Oh, god…"

The voice, the cruel, faceless ringmaster's voice resonated with a chill, the same voice that taunted her, that got the best of her, that made her blood run cold, made her feel so much anger and possibly the only who could make her feel genuine raw _hate_...

The voice she'd tried to block out at every failure, at every death, at every disappointment.

_Barbara._

Her hold was tighter than ever as the memories were unleashed and Cuddy was losing.

_Again._

-o0o-

"Tim?"

"I'm gonna go," she said as she turned the corner, nearing the bridge now. "I'll call later."

And just like that, the sign was clear: the conversation was over. For now.

"Are you seeing Lily?"

He sounded hopeful.

"Yes, when we get to the hospital. I'm driving her car, I brought my Jag," she explained.

"Ah, driving. Always been therapeutic to both of you, despite what I've told you over and over."

"She didn't die then and she's not dead yet," Tim snapped. "You know driving calms her. You know it's most probably been a century since she _really _drove. It helps her."

"Until it kills her…"

"Despite assholes," Tim said coolly. "Women _can _drive."

She congratulated herself on her talent to make things less constricting and more loose. Or in her terms, she could make a Nathan party into a Tim party. Trade one bore for a whore.

_There was no better deal than that._

"I know, don't get so defensive."

"Shut up," she smiled, remembering once more why she preferred Elliot to Stinky Binky.

"Tim…"

"I know, I'm fabulous."

He chuckled. "I…thank you."

"She's my sister too," Tim pointed out. "I love her."

"And for that, I owe you…for life."

"Be careful, _that_ might just bite you in the ass one day," she threatened. "Or shall I say, _I _might just bite you in the ass one day."

"Tim," she could imagine his cheeks growing a light blush of pink.

She chuckled. "Prude. You're the reason why she's not getting laid."

"Oh, god," he muttered. "Artemis."

"What? She's forty, you expect her to be a virgin?"

"With a friend like you? Sadly, no."

"She could have done worst."

"Yes, true. Take care of her, Tim."

"I always do."

Hanging up, she glanced at her screen and saw she had a voicemail. She listened, shaking her head as the short rant ended. Rolling her eyes, she tossed her phone aside, pushing all thoughts of Lisa's and Elliot's father aside.

She didn't want to think about what she needed to do.

How do you tell your best friend her father was slowly dying? The same father who hurt her enough to run away and trade one life for another, trade _everything _for another?

Slipping right back into the late-morning traffic, Tim slipped on her sunglasses and headed for the bridge, trying to remember as much as possible about the roads of Princeton, New Jersey. She wasn't a fan of the town, it was too quiet for someone as loud as her.

_And in reality, Lisa was too loud for this town, if she would just show herself._

Spotting the bride, she smiled, just like Elise, driving fast was therapy.

Stepping on the gas, she sent the beautiful Cadillac into the fast lane, overlapping a black Audi and a green Volvo. Damn Lisa and her untinted windows, she saw the male driver shoot her a shit-eating grin as he drove his Audi and the woman glare at her from her old Volvo.

She waved at them with her fingers as she pressed on, not missing the ambulance that rushed behind her. She smiled wider.

What was that term again, _ambulance chaser?_

Yes, that one.

Pulling back, she let the ringing ambulance pass her as she slipped aside. She watched it breeze by, always envious of their unstoppable speed that was _legal _anywhere, anytime. Hell, they could run over cars if they wanted and get away with it with a gold-goddamned-star.

Timing herself, she waited less than second before she breezed after the vehicle, taking advantage of the gap the other cars had left in the bridge.

Sure, they would hate her, but she wasn't ever going to meet them anyway, right?

Laughing, she raced after the ambulance; sure she was going to be on their toes all the way to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

Elise was going to kill her and Lisa was going to run her over with her own car.

_Death by new baby Jaguar, what could be better?_

With a press of her boot, the Cadillac turned into a haze of red, right behind the ambulance.

-o0o-

Sitting back with his iPod blaring Johhny Cash's song, _Ring of Fire,_ House watched the suit sit back and push his phone back in his pocket. He would only see a partial of his profile from his sickly perfect hair, gay skin on the back of his neck and that stupid perfected pout that he was sure even the gay men could not resist.

The man, in a word, was perfect.

And it pissed him off.

If Cuddy would go out with a grease monkey chain then what more to a Greek-god lawyer who, based on his empty fingers, was obviously not permanently attached to anyone? The man screamed New York Sophistication, something House knew would appeal to born and bred New Yorker Cuddy even if he seemed to be in the 'fagacious' side.

It was like imagining how Will and Grace would be in real life, this would be_ the Pilot_—enter gay lawyer, cue in desperate single woman.

A part of him was sure this suit was not in it for the brother and until Lucas came up with something, he was suspicious about any brother. Did he even have one? House was sure this idiot came for Cuddy.

And that incident in her office was still too clear in his memory.

He'd seen it in her eyes, when the idiot insisted on calling her Elise. There was no confusion, no denial and no apparent signs of a delusion. Her eyes, however hard she tried to make them blank, left traces of unexplained fear and anxiety that left House bothered. And he could not deny that there was a whisper of familiarity, like she knew the man in the suit, like the name was something she herself knew.

And looking back now, he remembered something crucial.

She didn't deny anything.

Sure, she had grown all cold bitch with, _"Dr. Cuddy" _but she didn't correct him outwardly and openly. She simply dictated her title and never said, _"Hey, stupid, you got the wrong name and the wrong girl. Take a hike."_

But of course, if it had been her to say, she would have picked a few more choice words.

He continued to diagnose, just as he had the previous night before with Wilson, and came up with a guess that maybe it was her sister's name. He cursed himself for not listening in college. He was sure she mentioned her name somewhere.

He always trusted his memory, so why couldn't he remember her sister's name? In the back of his mind, he'd always known she had one, but he couldn't remember what her name was. Hearing Lucas's information after going out with Cuddy, he had confirmed his information then.

But why couldn't he remember her goddamned name?

Shaking his head and unconscious of the song changing from Johnny Cash to She's Not There by The Zombies, he opened his eyes to find Mr. Greek sitting still, his head turn to the other side of the room, staring at the bookcase on the other end, next to the door that led to her private conference room where he knew Stacy had once spent her time with Chase helping him through a case after his patient's brother sued him.

"That's where she let's us play Naughty Administrator," he said without thinking, the spur slipping past his lips automatically.

The man slowly turned to face him, "This is fun for you."

"Waiting? Sure," he said sarcastically. "I'm having balls of fun."

Nathan Winslow smirked. "Oh, a regular comedian…"

"Actually," House said, eyes wide in a look of innocence. "I prefer _smart ass_."

"Whatever suits you well," Nathan nodded in such a fem-y way that House was tempted to play poke the moron with a stick at that moment. "Dr. House."

He grinned. "That's my name, don't wear it out."

The Greco laughed, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. "You are quite a character."

"All thanks to Dr. Cuddy," House smiled falsely. "She's quite the trainer. You'll see I'm potty trained." He looked proud. "My mommy is the bestest mommy in the whole wide world."

Nathan cocked his head to the side. "Interesting…"

"Mommy's kind of strict," House went on, talking like a child as he took out a stolen red lollipop. "Is your mommy like mine?" He tore off the plastic with his teeth and popped it in his mouth, the wrapper he tossed onto the white couch.

He saw the lawyer eye it critically then him. "My mother?"

"Yeah," House grinned. "You got one, right?"

"She's home," Nathan said.

"Sister?"

"No, but you know about my brother, Elliot," he said easily.

House nodded. _Note to self, not a total idiot. Watch out._ "Would you like me to call Dr. Wilson for you? I believe he's up in Oncology now, the rascal."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Nathan said, running his gay hand through his gay-er hair. "I'll be seeing Dr. Wilson after I've made the proper arrangements with Dr. Cuddy."

House wondered if it was him or if there was really a shift in his eyes at the mention of her name.

"So, he's dying," House said, nodding. "Cancer…it's a bitch, huh? If he hid it from you, how'd you find out?"

Nathan shifted in his seat. "Stan Atherton told us to talk to him and we did…he denied it, of course, got angry and left, but a few days later, he was rushed to the hospital. There was no keeping it secret by then."

"Is he bed ridden now?" House asked. It was a good thing this man didn't know him, if he did, he would have frozen right then and asked why he was so interested in a stranger.

"He's in bed, most days, but he can still walk around," Nathan admitted. "He's very...stubborn."

House nodded and opened his mouth, but stopped when his phone began to ring with _MmmBop, ba duba dop, ba duba bop, ba duba dop, ba duba bop— _He looked up at the grinning man, "Excuse me, dying patient. My team calls.."

"Please," Nathan said, waving slightly with his hand.

House flipped his phone open, "Yes, dear?"

"Mariana just had a seizure—" Thirteen began to report.

"Whoa," House said, interrupting rudely. "Who the hell is that?"

"Our patient? The dancer?"

"Right. Is she dying?"

"No, but she might be," Thirteen said. "She just had a seizure and she has a fever. Is that earth shattering enough for you or should she be dead to be classified there?"

"Oh, you," House teased. "Easy to say the steroids didn't work, huh? And Fibromyalgia is definitely out since she slept, right? Fun. Time's up, kiddies. I think it's time to go to Uncle Jimmy with the big needle."

"What? Vasculitis is still on the table," Taub cut in from the background. "Fever is a symptom of Vasculitis! We should start her on Methotrexate."

"If we start her on MTX and you're wrong and she _has _ALL then you'll risk her even more," Kutner argued. "If she has ALL, the side effects for MTX that include Thrombocytopenia, Leukopenia, and Anemia. You'll be killing off cells _and _her immune system."

"Shut up," House rolled his eyes. "Get her a bone marrow biopsy, if it's ALL, confirm and send her off to Wilson. She's going to need some hand holding."

"But Vaculitis explains—" Taub argued.

"Shut up and do it," House snapped. "You make this mistake; I don't have to remind you how you'll kill her with MTX. I want answers."

"We'll take care of it," Foreman said, ever the quiet one.

Without another word, he hung up, sighing. His eyes drifted to Nathan Winslow who was staring at him. "It's hard to find good help these days," he said, waving his phone.

"You diagnose patients from your phone? Don't you see them at all?"

"Why?" House asked. "I have a team for that. They do the seeing, I save the day. It's a good system. The more I don't see patients, the better I work. If I dislike them less, the more I work."

"You are an odd one," Nathan said, grinning. "But I see why your boss keeps you around."

"I know, I'm good," House grinned smugly. "Plus, I'm a sex god."

"Very bold as well," Nathan mused. "Tell me, Dr. House, what exactly is it that you do?"

"I save the hopeless," House said simply, pulling the earphones out from him and tossing them aside on a pile. "What about you? Though, I bet a rich guys like you won't have to work for anything now, huh?"

Nathan smiled, bashfully. "I'm a lawyer."

"Ah," House nodded. "Saving the world one millionaire at a time, eh?"

Nathan shook his head. "No, not really…most of my work is pro bono. I bill enough each year to take cases as I please. A perk that comes with being a partner..."

"Wow, you're just a regular nice rich guy, huh?" House dug.

"Maybe, maybe not," Nathan said, shrugging. "Like you, I just do what I'm good at."

"Sitting in a room full of suits and arguing with a dude in a black dress," House smirked. "Sounds like fun, maybe I'll try it."

"From what I hear, you have," Nathan smiled knowingly. "That case with that police officer? Huh, heard what you did in front of Judge Helen. You got off easy, one night in a cell, walking out in the middle of a trial."

"That Judge had the hots for me," House bragged. "Lost her nerve that night, it was quite lonely."

Nathan laughed. "I'll let her know then."

House smirked. "You know her?"

"Yes," Nathan nodded. "And I also know Detective Tritter."

House's smirk disappeared. "Ah, the scum that makes the world go 'round. How is the old bastard? Dying, I hope,"

"I wouldn't really know," the lawyer replied. "We have never been formally introduced. I heard he's quite the character…"

House snorted. "Character? He was a pompous bore who wanted to pay the world back because somewhere, somehow someone screwed him over."

"A cop with a grudge," he nodded, understandingly. "Can't say I don't see a lot of those…"

House frowned. What the hell was he doing? He was chatting with this lawyer, what the hell was he getting for it? He could imagine this guy in the courtroom, with his suits and his hair. Yes, he would sweet talk any jury out. He was smooth and House damned himself for being sucked in idle chit chat.

"So," House said, sitting up. "What brings you back, lawyer?"

"My brother is considering a transfer here to New Jersey," Nathan said. "We have a friend here in Princeton and we thought this might be a good place to settle. Not too far from our work, not too near chaos."

"Yes," House smiled. "Chaos… who wants _that_?"

-o0o-

"_Get out of my way!"_

"_No, you are grounded. You are staying right here!"_

"_Leave me alone!"_

"_Elise!"_

"_Shut up! Get away from me!"_

"_You are not seeing that girl anymore, she is poison!"_

"_No, she isn't. _You _are the poison, you miserable witch!"_

"_Elise, what's the meaning of this?"_

"_Dad!"_

"_She went home late again last night, Damien and now she's going out again with that awful girl. You know, that girl? Thatcher Theodoratus's daughter? She's out of control and a bad influence on Elise, Damien."_

"_Dad—"_

"_Listen to your step mother, Elise, I have to go—"_

"_What? You're kidding me right?"_

"_Elise, please? I have a meeting with…"_

"_Damien! What are you doing? Begging her to ground herself?"_

"_Shut up!"_

"_Elise!"_

"_Dad!"_

"_You are not going out with Artemis, not today or tomorrow. For this, you are grounded."_

"_You're kidding me right?"_

"_No, I have to go. I'm late for work as it is. Goodbye, dear."_

"_Have a good day, Damien."_

"_Unbelievable!"_

"_Elise!"_

"_Shut up, leave me alone and stay out of my life."_

"_No, you're grounded."_

"_No, I'm not."_

"_Elise—is that? Who is that honking loudly outside! Frederick, who is at the door?"_

"_That's Tim. I'm going."_

"_Elise, wait until your father—"_

"_Shut up. I'm leaving."_

"_You are in big trouble—"_

"_Here's a penny, tell it to someone who cares."_

The familiar voices bounced all over her head, thundering and jarring her as they argued back and forth in her memory. The scene, the emotions, the words and feelings were still clear to her.

Cuddy shook her head, remembering how loud she had slammed the front door that day while the family butler, Frederick Burns, watched her with a twinkle in his eyes, waving slightly as she breezed away. Tim had driven in that day with another friend, Olivia Masters and all three of them sped their way to the Hamptons where they hung out all day in the beach.

That night, after she came home, her father was sitting in the den, waiting for her with a glass of scotch in his hand. Next to him was a frowning Barbarian.

They'd taken away her privileges that day, money and everything else included. She had rebelled stronger, louder and snuck out in the middle of the night with Tim who drove her immediately to their house where she called, while in tears, Elliot who was away at school in New Haven.

What happened the next night was something she didn't dare revisit.

Slipping on to the fast lane, she passed a few cars along, maintaining a proper speed. She drove the car smoothly, gliding through the lanes, occasionally taking over, though it was not really legal, she overtook them politely.

Cuddy could almost hear Tim laughing her ass off in the back of her head.

The ringing of her phone tore her away from the mocking laughter. "This is Cuddy."

"Where the hell are you?" the voice boom inside the interiors of the car.

"I'm almost there, Tim," she smirked at the impatience, grabbing her phone and putting it on the dashboard in front of her.

"You left me at a red light and I still end up getting her first? Come on, Lisa. You're losing your touch. Where are you?"

"Almost there."

"Hey, you okay?"

She always hated how the witch could detect things she would think she'd hidden well. "I'm fine."

"FINE, of course," she could see her nodding. "Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional?"

It wasn't really a question.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Tim."

"What was it this time?"

"Nothing," Cuddy lied, though she knew it would be futile. She hated loud speakers. "I'm at the bridge now."

"Lisa."

"Remember that night?" Cuddy blurted out, gripping the wheel tight, her eyes flicking over to the rearview mirror as she got halfway through the bridge.

A pause.

"Yes."

"I…I remembered and I just had to stop," Cuddy partially lied. "It was…I relived it or something…I still remember everything."

"Sucks, huh?"

"It was terrible," Cuddy admitted. "I…I can still remember her voice, feel it happen all over again…"

"You're okay now," Tim sighed. "It doesn't matter what that bitch did to you."

Cuddy nodded. "I…Tim, I…"

"Breathe."

She took a deep breath. "It hurts."

"What?"

"I remember, it hurts…" she wanted to close her eyes.

"Breathe," Tim reminded. "Where are you?"

"Past the bridge," Cuddy said. "I'm almost there."

"Good. Concentrate on driving, focus on me, okay? I'm right here."

"Tim…"

"She can't hurt you anymore."

"I know…"

"Then what…"

Cuddy closed her eyes, "Dad…I remember when he hurt me."

"Lisa," Tim said, obviously valiantly hiding her panic. "Lisa? Lisa, for the love of God, _breathe!_"

Cuddy nodded, though she knew she couldn't see her. This was her problem, forgetting how to breathe sometimes. This was something old, something Tim knew too well.

"_Breathe, Lisa!"_

Cuddy nodded again, taking a deep breath loudly.

"Just breathe…" Tim's voice felt like a million miles away.

Cuddy didn't want to remember, but she was there now.

_Elise walked through the doors as Frederick held them open to her. "Miss Lily, we were worried about you. We're glad you're back…"_

_The genuine emotion in the man's voice was not hard to miss and Elise smiled at him sheepishly. "Sorry, did you worry again, Freddie?"_

"_Dear, when it comes to you?" he shook his head, his thick with British accent. "When do I _not_?"_

_She smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm fine." She looked around, seeing the main lobby of the house empty. "Where are they?"_

"_In the study," the dark look on the man's face was a sign things were not going to be pleasant for her. "Miss Lily, there's something you need to know. Your step—"_

"_Elise, come in here this instant!" came the screeching call that echoed through the house and the young girl shook her head with a roll of her eyes._

"_Ah, the queen awaits," she muttered as she headed down the halls._

"_Miss Lily…"_

"_I'll be fine, Freddie. Could you prepare me a banana split please?"_

"_Very well, Miss, but there's something—"_

"_Elise Audrina Foxworth, come in here this instant!" came her father's bellow._

_Waving faintly to the butler, Elise stalked off down the hall, ready to face whatever awaited her, knowing this was going to be a long night._

_Pushing open the doors of the study, she found her father standing there with a fierce look in his eyes that bordered in rage while her step mother sat regally in a high backed seat a few feet behind him._

"_Elise, where have you been?"_

"_I was at Tim's."_

_She saw her father's eyes darkened. "Did I or did I not tell you not to leave yesterday?"_

"_Yes," Elise nodded. "You did, but you had no grounds to keep me inside. My homework is done, I ate my vegetables, I cleaned my room, my grades are as impeccable than—"_

"_Don't you try my patience, Elise," her father rumbled threateningly. "Don't you dare."_

"_I went out, I didn't get killed or steal a car," Elise defended. "I simply stayed at the Theodoratus's house. They don't mind."_

"_I do and so did Barbara," Damien Foxworth said, motioning to his wife without looking. Had he looked, he would have seen the smug smirk of triumph on her face. "You deliberately undermined her authority over you."_

"_I did not," Elise said, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "There was nothing to undermine in the first place. She has no authority over me; she is _not_ my mother."_

"_But she is my wife," Damien said. "And she is your step mother, for better or worst. You have to respect her, she has earned it."_

"_Earned it?" Elise laughed sarcastically. "Earned what? From the moment she walked into our lives she's made a mess of it! Look what she's done, she's stripped this house of any memory of _my _mom!"_

"_Elise…"_

"_I mean," Elise threw her hands up in the air. "She's done nothing but make _my _life a living hell. She doesn't care about anyone but herself and money! She doesn't care about you or Elliot!"_

"_Elise!" her father thundered. "That is enough!"_

"_No!" the teenager cried, her eyes fierce as she glared past her father and at the woman behind him. "She's done nothing but push her way into our family!" She glared at her father. "And you let her, dad! You just _let_ her!"_

"_Elise…"_

"_Do you even remember mom?" she screamed, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. "Do you? Because you don't seem to care or remember her! You replaced her with some pathetic, selfish, cheap plastic doll!"_

"_That is _**enough**_!" Damien screamed and in a flash, Elise felt rather than see his hand land on her cheek harshly, the force enough to make her stumble back a few steps in her high heels._

"_Damien," Barbara was up on her seat immediately, a look of false concern on her face. She stood, but made no move to restrain her husband._

_Elise, her hands on her stinging cheek, stared at her father with unbidden tears pooling in her shocked eyes, disbelief written on her pretty face as her bottom lip trembled._

_Damien Foxworth stood, glowing red hand hanging loosely at his side, his other clenched into a fist like his daughter's, his eyes wide, his face pale, his chest heaving heavily. "Elise…" he reached out to touch her but the girl, still in shock, stumbled back a few more steps, shaking her head slowly. "I'm…"_

_The girl made a soft, strangled sound and shook her head, her mouth open as if she was trying to speak as a tear slipping lazily down her reddening cheek. Her pouted bottom lip jutted out, a small weeping crimson liquid visibly trickling slowly in the small cut._

_The door to the study immediately opened and a plump woman in a black and white maid's uniform rushed in, arms immediately encasing the trembling girl, hushing to her in soft croons. A soft, loving hand immediately went under her chin, a piece of tissue wiping the blood away. "It's all right, dear…"_

"_Lily, I'm…" Damien, still pale with shock, reached out once more but Elise cowered back against the woman who held her securely in her chubby arms._

"_I'll…" the woman began, smoothing the young girl's hair. "I'll take care of her, Mr. Foxworth." She didn't wait for an answer as she began to lead the girl away. "There, there, dear, it's all right. I'm here. Don't worry."_

_And Damien stood there, his wife standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder, frozen in place with shock at what he had done. "Its okay, Damien," Barbara crooned softly against his ear. "It's not your fault. She'll be okay. She's going to be just fine."_

_But as father stood there, watching as his daughter was safely led away by the woman who had been taking care of her from the moment she was brought home from the hospital, he knew it was not going to be okay._

_Never again…_

_Just as the girl knew as she was safely brought into her bedroom, letting gentle hands heal her as she was laid down in her bed, tears streaming down from her sad eyes._

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Was this long? I think so.

Anyway, there you have it. I admit, the scenes with Cuddy's dad were not as original as I wanted, but…you know. Oh, well. You'll bet getting more flashbacks, if you want. Tell me.

You guys spoiled me so with your reviews (now I hope I don't get too sad when I don't get as much this time, pathetic, huh?). God, that felt so awesome when I saw you guys reviewed so much! I hope you liked this chapter! I have pre-final exams this week!

Some replies, I'm so sorry I couldn't reply to all (if you don't want to read this **UBER LONG** note, don't bother. It's just idiot me coming alive):

**Shikabane-Mai**: I love long reviews, hint-hint. Thank you! And NO! you are not ignorant (if the question was rhetorical, I am ignoring that fact) I was just evil enough to let you think on your own, which of course, I predicted was a male Tim.

**cloybellsouth,net**:

gosh, if I replied to all your reviews right here, I might have to make a whole chapter page for that! Thank you so much for reviewing my work. I love your reviews (well, I love everyone's reviews!) and I wish I could contact you or something through an account here…On your ch. 5 review: Her **sister** was on the show!? I did not hear that part, just her mother and father and yes, thanks to my awesome readers, I spotted them on Detox. Her mother was nurse and her dad was one of the people waiting in the waiting room. (I hope I thanked everyone for that! If I didn't, I am an ass and thank you!) And I am glad you like my version of Brenda! I love my sort-of-mine Brenda too. Your reviews have been flattering and very nice, thank you so much. You're so sweet, I hope you don't tire of reading my fic. And like you, yes, I am addicted to Huddy fics as well. I go through withdrawals when I don't get to read them! I repeat some great fics sometimes when there aren't much updated or new works! Thank you so much for reading!

**reginablair**: not to sound ignorant, but *_blush_* what exactly do you mean by _"i think tim and house should bang..."?_

**Invisable Rose**: happy you love Tim! Sorry my update took a while. I hate exams. And about Elise/Lisa's mother? You'll find out along the way. Promise. I intend to finish this and maybe pull out a sequel after.

**angel2goddess**: I'm sorry if I confused you! LOL I know my plot's a bit crazy, but I hope I'll explain it well enough along the way. And don't worry, I'm tying it all together along, just be a wee bit more patient, okay? I hope you keep reading and reviewing! I'd love to be informed if I'm making a mess of things so I can correct them.

**kakashifangrl**: nope, no relation to my other fic. Tripod boy is just…Tim here.

_I'm sorry if I don't post replies to everyone! I know these notes are long enough, but I hope you know I am immensely thankful for your reviews! I love them, they keep me high. Thank you so much, I hope you review again and again as the story goes._

And on my random note:

I wish we could stop bashings all over. It's not very nice and it's stupid. I personally don't see the point in bashing other ships and characters, but most of all, I cannot stand bashing the actors whether it's Lisa or Jennifer or Sela. It sucks. This is why some people hate people in general. Some just don't make it easy to like them. Anyway, thank you all for your comments on the subject. I've stopped reading non-pro-Huddy things, even comments on videos and stuff.

On **Unfaithful**:

Holy freakin' crap! That was a damned good episode. It ended on a sad note when Cuddy was holding Rachel in the crown and Wilson was giving her the sad eyes…God, that broke my Huddy heart, Wilson's face and Cuddy's evasion…then House's lonely playing. _Sigh _It broke my heart.

But I did love whole thing with Cuddy's "You're an idiot" scene with Wilson. God, can I love her anymore? She's so adorable! And WOOHOO! Finally, some Cameron/Cuddy friendly scenes—I am a firm believer in women being friends, why can't these two who work together be friends? Score for the writers! It's about time!

And I saw so goshdarn right about the Foreteen drama. There was no way putty-Foreman was going to seriously do that to Thirteen. Ha! And Chase's scene was so little…

Anywhoo, my notes have reached another high-low. SOOOOO FREAKIN' LONG! I loved Unfaithful, period! I am watching it again!

I love you guys and thank you for the reviews, you are all choc-ful of awesome!

xoxOphelia

_The First Cut is the Deepest _by _Sheryl Crow_


	14. Chapter 13: LaLaLaLies

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Note: As always, thanking you all for the reviews. This took a bit and I apologize. My grandfather had a stroke and I've been staying with him, leaving my laptop at home mostly. I'm really sorry and I hope this chapter's okay. I've been kind of distracted. I'm so sorry.

Warning: As you can see, I've glamorized Cuddy's past so I hope you guys don't hate me that everything seems too unreal, but trust that I am trying to make it as believable as possible. In this chapter, you get a small glimpse of Elise's past, even an address I picked somewhat arbitrarily while checking out my NYC guide thingy and the internet. Be warned that as the story goes, you'll see how insane I am as I write this super impossible back-story for Cuddy/Elise.

We're going to be seeing a lot of impossible stuff in this story, hope you'll like how Elise's life was and how it _could _be now that my OCs are sweeping in.

Chapter Thirteen and the girls (Lisa and Tim) are out to play…first. Boys and the rest of the world will follow. I kind of focused on the ladies. Ehe.

Kiss, kiss and a hug, I give you…

Chapter Thirteen: La-La-La-Lies

"_Damn it, wake up!"_

Cuddy's head jerked, her eyes coming to focus once more as she realized she was nearing the intended area where she'd asked Tim to meet her. Her eyes immediately went to the rearview mirror and she gave a sigh of relief when there was no apparent damage caused by her absent-minded driving.

She was thankful the snow had stopped falling in the night, otherwise, she knew she would have gotten into an accident, regardless how aware her conscious mind was while her subconscious took her away from the present.

It took her a few seconds to realize it was Tim's voice that brought her back. "Lisa! Pick up or I'm coming for you and kill you myself!"

Cuddy shook her head. "I'm here."

"Damn it," Tim hissed clearly on the phone. "You okay now?"

"I think so," Cuddy mumbled, her hand drifting to her head. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," Tim sighed. "Don't _ever _do that to me again, Lee! God, it's not even about the damned car. You can throw it off a bridge, just don't be _in _it!"

Cuddy smiled shakily. "I'm sorry…I was…" her hand slipped to her cheek and she was surprised to feel wet warmth transfer to her fingertips.

"You were crying and breathing hard," Tim said, as if she knew what Cuddy was just discovering, as if she could see her every movement. "God, I thought you were having another attack."

"Sorry," Cuddy muttered. "And I'm far from another attack…it's been years."

"No one guaranteed it won't happen again," Tim said dismissively and Cuddy would imagine her waving her hand around. "And you know that, _doctor. _What happened?"

"I just…" Cuddy shook her head. "I was just remembering."

"What?" Tim asked, curious.

"That night," the doctor said softly. "It's like…I was there again."

Cuddy shook her head again, trying to shake away the rest of the memory, while everything seemed fresh once more when in reality, that night happened more than two decades ago.

"Hey, I can see you now, make a turn, I'm by your car," Tim said suddenly and Cuddy looked up ahead to see her car parked in front of a small dinner, Tim standing there in her all-black wardrobe, phone pressed to her ear.

Cuddy nodded though she knew she couldn't be seen as she took the turn and parked in the space next to her car, sliding in place easily. Tim was by her door in an instant, pulling it open and leaning down, hands braced on the door and the roof of the car. "Hello, gorgeous."

"I…" Cuddy stuttered before closing her eyes again, feeling the burn of tears she had delayed come back to her. "It…I don't…I don't want to go back."

"Oh, Lee," Tim said softly and Cuddy found herself in her embrace again. "It's okay…"

"No, it isn't," Cuddy moaned, pressing her cheek against her shoulder. "Ellie…he needs me."

"Ellie loves you," Tim said. "And he would understand because he knows it'll hurt you more to go."

"I don't want to think about this right now," Cuddy said, shaking her head as she sat up. "I…I have things to do, a hospital to run."

Tim nodded, pressing her hand on her friend's cheek. "Good. We'll go there, you play doctor, I'll scope out your cast, try to seduce your blonde ER chic and her sexy boyfriend."

Cuddy smiled as she pulled out a tissue from her purse, dabbing her cheeks and around her eyes. "It's the accent, huh?"

Tim laughed, throwing her head back. "Oh, darling, we've heard all the accents and I've slept with all of them, but your Robert Chase," she raised her right hand and made claws with her fingers, folding and unfolding them like a cat clawing and purred. "I'd do him."

The doctor winced, her nose crinkling. "Ugh, Tim! That's my employee you're talking about and he's younger than you by more than a decade!"

"All the more fun it'll be," Tim purred. "Younger guys are so hot."

"No," Cuddy said firmly, stepping out of the car. "And I mean it."

Tim frowned. "Buzz kill _again_. You never let me have fun."

The curly haired woman smirked as the other woman pouted. "You'll get over it."

Tim scoffed. "Pfft. Whatever, but you're taking me to a strip bar tonight. I need to get acquainted with this place. I'm sure they've got decent gyrating hotties around here."

Cuddy scowled. "I don't even go to places like that and you know it! Men dressing up as firemen with…ugh, that's sick."

Strippers or over-muscled Schwarzenegger and Vin Diesel types never really worked for her. She always liked her guys tall with normal guy body types, preferably with blue eyes and messy hair, a smile that could mean so many things, beautiful hands with long fingers of a pianist, a brilliant, cunning mind like—

_Not that she was thinking about anyone in particular, of course._

Tim's brows furrowed. "What? Lee, no, no, no—I mean, strip bars with _women _in it. Okay?"

"What the hell for?" Cuddy's eyes widened. She'd known Tim was always wild, but she didn't realize her best friend was batting for the other team now. That would take some getting used to.

Of course, Tim did it once before with Svetlana Erwin, but Cuddy didn't really think about that one. It didn't count, after all, since it was a dare and Cuddy was sort of there.

Tim smiled, shrugging. "I'm working on a new show about a bunch of burlesque dancers and what better way to study them than in real life? Of course, hands off—no herpes for this lady." She shrugged. "I mean, women are _hot _but God, whatever's between-_between_ their legs _isn't_…hm, maybe I should go for that Cameron? She's hot in a…tragic Uma-Les-Miserables way, you know? Plus, that blonde hair is hooker-ish…we could role play or something."

The said woman's boss shook her head. "I'm gonna pretend I'm not hearing you talk about having _sex _with _my _employees and role playing…"

The woman, who had originally been daydreaming about the doctors she'd met that morning giggled. "What can I say? I'm a free spirit!"

"Whatever you say, Tim, now where are my keys?"

"Here," Tim tossed the keys. "Not a dent and I even played cat and mouse with an ambulance."

"Tim!"

"They passed me by, how could I resist an open road? It was fun!"

"You are insane with some kind of death wish," Cuddy muttered as she switched places with Tim, walking away from the car as she positioned the other by the open door. "Thanks, by the way…that was fun too."

"Yeah, _fun_," Tim scowled. "Until you scare the hell out of me with…"

"I'm sorry."

"Just…" Tim shook her head and pulled Cuddy in a hug. "Just don't let it happen behind the wheel or any machinery, okay? This is you and me, I'm the crazy one and you are supposed to be the nagging, bitchy, annoying, responsible one who worries too much, okay?"

Cuddy smiled as she hugged her back. "I know. I'm just a bit unbalanced today. Thank you for being here, Timmy. I've missed you so much."

"Yeah, well," Tim pulled back. "What are bitches for if they don't show up to bite off wimpy ex-boyfriend's heads off, right?"

Cuddy laughed. "He's not wimpy, but thank you."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Of course he _isn't_."

Cuddy shook her head, "They keys still in there and again, follow and don't overtake. You can park at the visitor's space and I'll park at mine."

Tim sighed. "Best friends with the bitch boss and I still get to park with the Neanderthals and commoners. It's sad, sad, sad."

Cuddy laughed. "You'll get over that one too. Now, come on. I am _late_."

Tim groaned. "All right, all right, sheesh." She pulled her phone out. "But you are talking to me on the phone. I am not having another coronary watching you crash _your_ car this time."

Cuddy smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, okay."

Slipping into her Cadillac, Cuddy waved as she pulled out first, sighing as she once more felt herself inside her own car. It was a beautiful car too, but of course, driving Tim's Jaguar was a whole new deal. It was definitely like the cars they used to risk their lives for, but Cuddy was not Elise anymore.

She trumped back the memories as she let her car sit idly as Tim pulled out. She pushed down Elise as well, who in her mind, obediently went back into her little corner, sitting patiently and quietly for the next _rare _time she would be let out.

Cuddy drove, wondering if there would ever be a time Elise would fight to be left out and be alive again, gaining the life that had been once hers.

And as she drove, Cuddy wondered and feared _if _she would be able to fight her then and win.

The ringing of her phone tore her away from her thoughts. "Hey Timmy, missed me?"

-o0o-

"Crap," Tim hissed as she tossed her phone into her bag, pushing her sunglasses off her eyes and over her head. "Crap, crap, crap, _crap!_"

Her long slender fingers slapped harshly against the wheel as she looked for a place to park closest to the Dean of Medicine's spot. She bit her bottom lip, not out of the stress of finding a spot, but because of the thoughts that were running through her head.

"You are a traitorous, lying, cold hearted, manipulative bitch," she told herself. "And you are going to hell with that idiot Nathan Winslow because he's the same thing only he has no balls. Happy now, Artemis? Are you happy now?"

"Fuck!" she growled. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

She clenched her fist and started beating the wheel, venting out her frustrations.

How was she supposed to tell Lisa about her father? Was she even supposed to now that even Elliot was reluctant to tell his sister the truth? What would the truth do to Lisa once she found out? What was she going to do with Tim once she found out _Tim knew all along __**before**__ her_?

"She's going to kill me," she whispered to herself as she found a space, two rows back from Lisa's space. "I'm so sorry, Elise…"

Her voice carried her repentance as she bit her bottom lip near to bleeding, pressing her forehead against the wheel. It was true, once Lisa found out, she was going to kill Tim and it also meant something, that Tim would say her apologies to _Elise_, the girl who loved and adored her father. Tim could clearly separate the two, even though they were both in one person.

Elise Audrina Foxworth was a happy girl whose world was shattered by a series of unfortunate and later, hateful, events. Elise was a girl who loved her father and lost a mother too early, too soon in life. Elise was a strong-willed, smart and behaved girl who lived a shelter life until one evening at the age of twelve where she was forced to grow up.

Lisa Cuddy, on the other hand, was a woman who could stand on her own two feet, who could face the world with a sneer and could laugh at the face of danger. Lisa was a woman who knew how to get what she wanted, who did what she had to and faced the world alone without falter. Lisa was a woman who knew how to pick herself up, who knew nothing in life was ever fair and believed she could be alone and be happy.

Two different personalities, however MPD may that sound, and no matter who she was facing, Tim would love her. Both were people she cared deeply for and would move heaven and hell for.

Tim could shamelessly say she had never, not once, betrayed Elise's trust and now, as she sat lonely in her car, she felt head scream, knowing she was betraying Lisa now.

But Elise, who cared about her father, would be the one hurt.

What was she supposed to do now?

On top of everything, with Nathan coming back and Lisa's unsorted feelings, what was going to happen once she found out her father was dying?

Tim would not forgive, but even she knew it would hurt Lisa to find out the great Damien Foxworth was dying. Her biologically programmed mind would _make _her give a damn.

Tim couldn't remember the last time she seriously lied to Lisa until today. When had she ever lied? When had she ever kept something big enough that could potentially ruin their world?

If she could hate Elliot, she would, for putting her in this position. She could hate him, for _making _her lie to Lisa because he _couldn't_, but she…wouldn't, couldn't, not Elliot—not because he meant the world and beyond to Lisa, but because she _understood _why he couldn't.

Tim could face having Lisa hate her, knowing they would both survive, but if it was Elliot who would be the one lying and breaking Lisa's trust, Tim knew there was a chance Lisa would never get over it.

How would she be able to get over being betrayed by the one last person in her family she trusted and loved oh so dearly?

Tim sighed.

Lisa was already confused and Tim forced herself to believe it was better this way, keeping Elliot's secret for now. She didn't need this, while she was still so confused about everything else, even though it was all a lie.

Lisa was confused enough at the moment, Tim would not burden her more.

Now if only Tim believed that, if only her mind agreed she was doing the right thing.

_If-goddamned-only…_

Let the lies continue.

-o0o-

"What took you so long?" Cuddy asked, frowning as she stood by her car dressed in her coat and her hands warmly encased in leather gloves. She was cold, she needed and wanted coffee and she was late. God only knew what was happening in her hospital now.

Stupid things usually happened when she wasn't around or maybe, that was just her ego talking, but shhh! No one was thinking about that.

"Sorry," Tim said, not sounding sorry at all as she bounded up in her all-black glory. The blackness of her hair and outfit only brought out the electric sea green eyes on her face. "My idiot assistant is burning down my multimillion dollar project as it is. We are _definitely _going out tonight before I _fly_ back there and skin her alive, the insipid little _feygula_."

Cuddy laughed. "Then why do you keep…her?"

"It," Tim dismissed. "One day he's a him next his prancing around as a she after that he's James Bond after that he's Halle as Cat Woman. Who knows? And I can't just fire it. It's a bit of an idiot, but it knows things…think of it as training a monkey—it takes a while, but I'm willing."

"Until someone gets killed," Cuddy muttered. "Aspiring act..or?" she guessed.

"Yes, until I kill it and God, yes, aspiring actor-ress," Tim growled slightly. "I hate thespians."

Cuddy shook her head as she began to walk to the hospital's front entrance, Tim next to her. "You hate people."

"On special occasions like Christmas and New Years," Tim said dismissively. "Other days, it doesn't matter. The streets aren't as crowded and the kids are usually in those hellholes called school. People are around, boohoo, but I don't have to join them."

"Which is why you watch your actors on a high-rise viewing area where you can watch them act and live through your pieces from far away, like God," Cuddy nodded, tucking her head low as she watched the ice she treaded carefully. "You know, that says a lot about you…"

"It's all very Funny Girl from that Streisand movie, I know," Tim laughed. "Well, darling, can I help it if I'm as good as…"

"Don't say it," Cuddy warned. She wasn't religious, but she'd been told enough about blasphemy.

"Fine," Tim mumbled. "But really, I do enough creating and all that jazz, why should I bother mingling with the commoners and merchants?"

"You are such a snob," Cuddy chuckled.

"It takes one to know one, sweetie," Tim said breezily. "And so here we are," she stared up at the front area of Princeton-Plainsboro, taking in the snow covered panels of windows and brick red walls. "Very Princeton, isn't it?"

"Whatever you mean, yes," Cuddy said, smiling. "You've been here before; don't act like you're seeing it the first time."

"Well," Tim shrugged. "It's still something…you being big bitch boss here…"

Cuddy smiled. "Thanks."

Tim frowned. "I did not say anything."

"You did," Cuddy grinned. "Sort of."

"You're still delusional," Tim said as they neared the entrance. "I love that."

Cuddy laughed as they stepped through the doors that automatically opened for them. Immediately they were engulfed in warmth and Tim's olive skin grew a slight shade of red around her cheeks from the change in temperature, being she wasn't as bundled up as Cuddy.

"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy," Angela smiled as she came in.

"Good morning, Angela," Cuddy smiled. "Messages?"

Angela's eyes drifted to Tim. "Oh, good morning, Miss. I see you found Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy looked at Tim who smiled. "Yes, yes, I did."

The receptionist smiled. "Great. I gave your messages to Cody, Dr. Cuddy, and you have messages from Dr. Meriden. She's been looking for you, something about—"

"The ice," Cuddy finished, shaking her head. "Like it's my fault winter comes in this part of the country and I should salt them and shovel them out of the way myself."

"Hm, Jimmy Choos in the snow and a shovel, meow," Tim hummed. "Office politics, zero. Bitchy boss, one…"

Cuddy gave her a look. "Angela, this is Miss Artemis Theodoratus."

"Tim."

"She's thinking about donating to the hospital this year," Cuddy smiled pleasantly. "And maybe also a show for this New Year, a presentation, some sort of play and such for the—"

"Eh?" Tim drawled, an eyebrow arched.

"Pediatric Ward," Cuddy said, ignoring her.

Angela's smile brightened. "Oh, that sounds wonderful! The children would love that."

Cuddy smiled, her eyes switching coyly to Tim who was shooting daggers at he. "Yes, they would, wouldn't they?"

"And I bet they'd love it more if Dr. Cuddy participated," Tim inserted. "I'm sure you're all well aware of her other talents—_musical _talents."

The young woman's eyes showed confusion and intrigue and Cuddy fisted her hands, itching to claw at her best friend. "Really, Dr. Cuddy? Wow. Do you sing and everything?"

"Sing, dance and play, sweetie, she's done it all!" Tim gushed, beaming as she jumped in before Cuddy could protest or deny anything. "Dr. Cuddy and I go _way _back. She can act for a bit, too. You'd be surprised."

And Cuddy heard the malice in her voice, Tim's own very-unfunny joke.

"Okay!" Cuddy suddenly said loudly, damage control. "That's all for now. Thank you, Angela, and excuse us, Miss Theodoratus and I have a lot to discuss right now about her donation."

"If you need any help with the play, Miss, I'll be glad to help," Angela said helpfully, smiling.

"I'm sure Dr. Cuddy will inform you," Tim said happily despite Cuddy's pushing beside her. "Ciao, dear, it was lovely to meet you!"

Cuddy rolled her eyes as she grabbed Tim's arm and began to drag her away as she waved with the tips of her fingers. She could feel her cheeks flushing both with embarrassment and the urge to sew Tim's big, willing mouth shut. None of her employees were to know anything, especially not the receptionist who knew _everyone_.

"I could so kill you right now," Cuddy muttered as she pulled her to the Clinic doors.

Tim laughed. "Oh, come on, Lee. You started that. Don't play if you know you can't win. I taught you that myself."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I just needed you to shut up!"

"And I was playing along," Tim tinkled merrily. "You could have stopped with the donation thing."

"And yet you still wouldn't have shut up!"

"Of course not," Tim said as they entered the Clinic. "That is the magic that is me, love."

"Just shut up," Cuddy hissed as a few nurses greeted her good morning and she smiled at them.

"Whoa," Tim said, stopping and at the same time pulling Cuddy back who stumbled in her high heels. "Now _this_ is real life."

Cuddy looked around, realizing the Clinic was filled that morning. "We're full, like most days."

"Its chaos," Tim quipped.

Cuddy stood watching the filled to the brim waiting area and the doctors that slipped through different doors, carrying folders and stethoscopes. She frowned, wondering what the rush all about was, but then realizing _this _was normal for their free Clinic.

"Dr. Cuddy," Brenda said as she came out. "Oh, and Miss…"

"It's Tim, darling," Tim said distracted, as she watched and Cuddy followed her gaze immediately saw a boy holding on to his mother who was cradling him to her protectively while he rubbed his glowing red nose. "Are you sure I won't catch anything here?"

"You're in a hospital, people are sick," Cuddy rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to get sick, my assistant is there, I'm sure. She'll let you in my office. Her name is Cody Gomez." She turned to Brenda. "Hey, are we backed up?"

Brenda looked around. "All doctors on schedule are here, but once we switch at eleven, we're going to be short one unless you get House to do his hours."

Cuddy sighed. "Right, force House in Clinic. Always fun…"

"House?" Tim asked, grinning. "You mean that guy from…"

"Diagnostics," Cuddy finished, her eyes boring into Tim's threateningly. "My office is over there."

Cuddy pointed at the door and Tim followed, her eyes zeroing right on the glass doors with her name on it. She grinned and Cuddy immediately knew she was up to something.

"Okay, office it is," Tim said willingly and began to walk away. "Whatever you say, Dr. Cuddy…"

Cuddy watched as Tim walked away before turning to Brenda who was smiling. "We met her this morning. Friend of yours?"

"Yes," Cuddy said, nodding. "She's thinking about donating." She looked around again. "I can clock in right now, if you need…"

"No," Brenda shook her head. "It's fine. Dr. Wilson clocked out early yesterday, we can page him down to help if more come in. You're late."

"I know," Cuddy sighed. "I slept too late then Tim came in and…ah," she waved her hand. "Everything just went to hell."

Brenda grinned. "Well, I know something that might make you feel better."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Remember that guy from yesterday?" Brenda asked, still grinning, pressing a chart to her chest.

"What guy?" Cuddy pretended not to know, though she knew who it probably was. She felt her body stiffen involuntarily.

"That guy," Brenda sighed. "From yesterday, the gorgeous one…that Winslow lawyer…"

"What about him?" Cuddy feigned disinterest.

Brenda pointed to her office. "He's in there right now."

Cuddy looked at her office, no sign of Tim outside anywhere then back to Brenda, her eyes wide. "What? He's in there? _Now_?"

Brenda looked confused. "Yes, why…"

But before she could finish asking, Cuddy was already rushing to her office, trying to imagine what was happening in there now with Nathan and Tim in one room without anyone else.

"Damn," Cuddy cursed out loud as she pushed through her office, seeing Tim standing just by the doors, not moving.

"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy, you—" Cody said with a smile that quickly turned into confusion as Cuddy rushed past her and straight to her doors.

Pushing the doors open, she stopped when she saw Nathan standing in the middle of the room, staring at Tim who was smirking at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

But that wasn't what got Cuddy frozen on the spot.

The fact that Tim wasn't already wrestling Nathan to the ground should have been good news.

Except, just as she was starting to breathe, a voice made her freeze as it drifted from the corner of the room, "Good morning, Dr. Cuddy. Pleasant day we're having, isn't it?"

-o0o-

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

Tim smiled at the pleasant little assistant sitting on her desk obediently and for a second, Tim scowled at Lisa again for apparently having snagged a reliable and single-gendered assistant, compared to Danielle Fontana, 'it's' name though she suspected but never cared to confirm whether it was it's real name or a drag name. Oh, wait, no, no—_stage _name.

She believed it was the latter, not that she really cared as long as it showed up when she barked. In her own view, it didn't matter what her employees did or wore at night or during the dawn, as long as they arrive looking humanly-acceptable when she needed them.

So far, evidence that Fontana was still prancing around in her theater, Tim hadn't found enough reasons to kill it yet.

"Hi," Tim smiled. "Dr. Cuddy is about to go in, she asked me to wait inside her office…"

Cody looked out the office and Tim figured she saw her boss. "Okay, go right ahead, but if you don't mind, someone is already waiting…oh, my…"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

The young woman smiled sheepishly. "It's just that someone came in this morning, a visitor and I sent him inside only I _forgot _someone was already waiting inside, one of our doctors."

Tim waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine, dear, I can wait with them. I don't mind."

"No, it's not that," Cody sighed. "The doctor waiting inside is Dr. House and he isn't exactly pleasant and the visitor might just…well, something bad might happen."

Tim suppressed a smile. "Like?"

"Dr. House isn't exactly well versed in…socializing," Cody stammered.

"Oh," Tim nodded slowly. "Is the visitor anyone important?"

Cody shrugged, "I think so. He's a lawyer from New York who has a sick brother and he's thinking about transferring him here. It's so sad. Lung cancer, late stages…"

Tim's spine froze. _He wouldn't dare, the rat bastard…_

"Sad," she said instead. "Well, I don't mind. Maybe if this House fellow had someone to bother, it might divide his…unpleasantness around."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't…"

"No, it's fine," Tim said as she headed for the doors. "Thank you, dear."

"Yes, Miss…"

Tim was getting tired of introductions. "Tim's fine. I don't go well with all the 'Miss' crap. It's so…ugh. I'm Tim Theodoratus, but Tim's fine. Really."

The assistant smiled. "Okay then, go right in…Tim."

She smiled, waving a little as she headed straight into the office, feeling her temper rising into high temperatures she usually only experienced with exceptionally difficult actors and actresses that she didn't hesitate to take down a notch or ten.

Tim stormed in without knocking, pushing the doors wide apart in a loud, grand entrance. First she saw Nathan who was immediately on his feet, looking ever perfect in such a nauseating way that Tim felt the rush of pleasure at the thought of pushing his pretty boy face into the ground. The rat bastard had the decency to smile.

"Hello," he said pleasantly though she could see the challenge in his eyes.

The rat-bastard was pretending not to know her.

"Who the hell are you?" came a voice from the side and Tim's eyes flickered over to the corner where she saw a sleek white couch housing a rather bored looking slob who she assumed was the great Gregory House.

Lisa had described him well enough and despite his tattered-muddy-unwelcoming-welcome-mat look, he did have his own unique charm. A rock star doctor—it was no wonder Lisa hadn't killed him yet _and _why she was attracted to the walking disaster, even though she wouldn't dare admit it herself. Tim knew her too well.

"Well, this is interesting," Tim said, her eyes dangerous, but the smile on her lips alluring. "Dr. Cuddy's morning is looking quite full, isn't it?"

"Where is Dr. Cuddy?" she smiled as she immediately tracked the slight hesitation in Nathan's voice as he used Lisa's name and title.

The pansy ass wimp was still licking his wounds over his lost love, which, of course, gave Tim another reason to slap his ass down. She had more balls than him when it came to Lisa.

"Outside," Tim shrugged. "Battling runny noses and skinned knees—saving the world and all since she actually has a job…" the dig was clear and she saw the flawless beauty try valiantly to fight against the scowl that threatened to surface.

_First to break loses the cake._

"Who the hell are you?"

Tim's eyes flitted back to the lump on Lisa's couch, still slumped lazily with an iPod on his chest, his eyebrows raised calculatingly, his eyes cautious. "I'm…a friend of Dr. Cuddy's, coming for a visit. I'm thinking about donating…"

Suddenly, the doors behind her opened again and immediately Tim saw the doctor's face light up in a smile that was nowhere near nice and was more on the side of evil genius-ish.

"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy. Pleasant day we're having, isn't it?" he bellowed before she could say anything first. She could hear the clear not-so-subtle hint of mirth in his voice.

"Dr. House," Tim heard Lisa say, coolly. "You're here early. Please, whatever it is, excuse us. As you can see…I have some meetings that need to be dealt with immediately."

"Oh—" Tim began but she saw the look Lisa shot her. This was no time for games and laughs.

"But, Dr. Cuddy, my patient—"

"Is fine," Lisa finished swiftly and Tim saw the slight shift in her eyes and the flexing of her hand, which was a hint she was lying. "Nurse Brenda updated me after gathering information for your team for my absence this morning. She's shown a few more symptoms, please, monitor your team and tend to your patient. Don't forget your Clinic hours at eleven."

"But Winters here and I were just having a lovely chat when this ray of sunshine," he motioned to Tim who grinning broadly at the obvious miss at Nathan's name. "Graced us with her presence and informed us of her intentions to make a donation."

Lisa looked at Tim who smiled as House went on, "And I thought she could join our chat since, after all, she is your friend, right?"

"Right," Lisa bit out. "Well, Miss Artemis Theodoratus is relatively new to the greater New Jersey area and she's not quite familiar with our hospital, perhaps you could give her a tour?"

"What?" House sputtered. "And who names their kid Artemis?"

Tim's eyes widened and she could almost hear Stinky Binky's triumphant sounds, gloating and reveling at the fact that she was the one being kicked out. After House's quip, she would have replied with some ass-like retort about his comment on her name, but she stood, staring at the woman next to her. "You're kidding…"

"Its fine," Lisa pressed. "Dr. House is very…"

"Busy," House grunted. "I have a patient."

"Perhaps you can bring our potential donor with you, the more she sees our hospital and our doctors at work, the better she will be assured her money will be well spent," Lisa said flawlessly. "Who better than my best doctor here, right?"

_She's always been a good actress, the bitch._

"Might be contagious," House said and Tim watched as his eyes met Lisa's challengingly. "Better than a gone donor than a dead donor, I'm sure." He looked at Tim. "Sorry."

Lisa shook her head before Tim could reply. "I checked and your patient isn't contagious at all."

Tim wanted to kick her right then. Why was she getting rid of her? Did she feel her betrayal? Damn, damn, damn, _damn._

And it was so Lisa that she'd punish her for betrayal by infecting her with some killer disease…

Pushing away guilty thoughts, Tim watched her friend and the limp doctor stand in a silent staring contest instead. She could see the icy blue of his eyes stare right into Lisa's stormy blue ones, both unwavering. A clear and obviously long fought battle of wills and Tim could see, through the twinkle of suppressed mirth in the stormy shades, that Lisa was enjoying this little game.

"Fine," House said finally and Tim saw the surprise flash through Lisa's eyes as if she hadn't expected his surrendering, which made sense, from what she'd heard through nights and days of endless Administrator-slash-Dean ranting—House was not the type to give up. "One tour A La Greg House, coming up, _mistress_."

_Yes, definitely clear why Lisa was lusting over this Tripod…_

Tim watched Lisa suppress a smile as she turned to Tim. "You'll be okay with Dr. House."

And the look in her eyes said, _Don't give me reason to kill you. I'm a doctor, I can make it look like a real, unfortunate accident._

Tim glanced at House who was watching her carefully. "Well, that sounds fun." She turned to Lisa. "I'll see you later, Lisa."

"Later, Tim," Lisa said as Tim headed out and they gave each other silent messages.

Lisa's eyes showed warning, _one wrong move and…_Tim imagined her using her finger and slashing it across her neck. _You are so dead._

While Tim's look was more, _Don't let the beautiful idiot get to you again or…_Tim mentally imagined pins and pins and pins stabbing through a Nathan Winslow Ken doll with missing arms and legs.

Lisa smiled, nodding at her while she quirked an eyebrow. It was settled.

"Come on," House said in mock cheerfulness. "This is going to be fun-fun-fun!"

"House."

"Mom," Tim grinned as he drawled it out like a petulant little boy.

_Cute too—Nathan's got competition._

Tim smiled at the look on Nathan's face at the thought of being beaten by a less than Elise-worthy opponent. It was too good to not come true.

"Behave or Clinic on January, triple for the year," Lisa was saying, her eyes daring him.

"She's a slave driver," House said, turning to Tim. "You sure you want to support this hospital?

"She is," Tim sighed. "I've been through that myself…"

"Oh," House smiled, his features conniving once again. "Perfect."

Tim met Lisa's eyes who were warning her again. "Yes, perfect," she murmured. She shot Nathan a withering look before turning away. He stared.

_Wimp…_

"Good day, Dr. Cuddy," House bellowed again. "And you too, Wallace!"

Tim headed out with a chuckle, gimpy following behind, leaving Lisa with Nathan Winslow.

-o0o-

Cuddy watched as the doors closed, feeling the warning sirens screaming all over in her head as she watched House follow her childhood best friend out. It wasn't jealousy, she knew Tim wouldn't even give House a thought, not because she didn't find him attractive, but because Tim simply didn't go for damaged and drama filled goods.

Tim wrote and directed enough of that in New York, she wouldn't want one in her bed.

But the warning sirens were there, screaming at her for putting House, the puzzle-hungry, truth and answer-addicted junkie and Tim, the chattiest, interfering, mouthiest female pain in the ass in Cuddy's life at the moment.

One cripple plus one bored heiress equals a possible disaster.

Cuddy would gamble though, she trusted Tim that much and for her need and love for trouble and, in essence, annoying, frustrating and pissing people off would be enough to assure her Tim would be spending more of her time doing all that to House than give him what he wants.

In a way, they were both alike in so many ways, which should be interesting.

One answer-seeking man child plus one bored woman-child equals something potentially funny.

For now, Cuddy was safe with a promise of House getting a taste of his own medicine.

Breathing easy for now, one crisis possible averted, Cuddy faced her current one.

"Elise."

"You went into my house last night," Cuddy said, coldly. "You _broke _into my…"

"I did not," Nathan said, standing up. "I used your key, which I should warn you, is not safe, leaving it so open…"

"Not open, _hidden_," Cuddy pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. "Which is not the point, Nathan because the point is, you _violated _my privacy."

"You didn't like the lilies I bought you?" he asked, looking genuinely confused and hurt. "You always loved lilies."

"I used to," Cuddy forced herself to say. It wasn't a total lie. She believed she's outgrown lilies and now she preferred tulips in shades of pinks and purples and as well as roses, the light shaded ones though she preferred them usually in a dusty shade of light pink.

It was just the thought of rejecting his thoughtful gesture was something she didn't want to do. She felt guilty for that, knowing it would hurt him, no matter how little. It would hurt still.

"Used to?" he echoed, looking very confused now.

"Things have changed, Nathan," Cuddy said softly and turned away as she began to unbutton her coat. "Things have changed a lot, including me."

"That doesn't make sense," Nathan said, softly. "You can change your name, your chosen career, you house, your address, your hair and clothes, but it doesn't mean you can change you."

"Yes, I can," Cuddy said, pushing the ties of her coat apart as she took it off. "And I have." She took a deep breath before facing him. "I'm sorry, Nathan."

"What for?" Nathan asked, looking sad. "For leaving? It's okay, I understand, but…come back."

"How is he?" Cuddy asked, avoiding his sad eyes as she moved towards her desk, making sure to maintain space between them as she did so. She couldn't dare to be close to him right now.

"He's doing okay," Nathan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Last I saw, he was doing well, Leese. He's okay. For now…"

"For now," Cuddy said slowly, her eyes falling to the floor as she stood behind her desk.

"Elise," Nathan said, coming around the desk to stand next to her as she balled her fists at her sides. "Come home, please? Even just for Christmas…the ball, you still remember that, don't you? Right?"

"The Winter Ball," Cuddy said quietly. "How could I forget?"

Ileana Holloway, Cuddy's grandmother, had the first Holloway Winter Ball when her only daughter, Elisabeth Holloway, turned sixteen three days before Christmas. She decided it would be the perfect time to introduce her formally into society three days after her birthday. Elisabeth was her pride and joy, after all.

It was a lavish ball with the guests in beautiful evening gowns and tuxedos, mingling as a mini-orchestra played on and the drinks, alcoholic for the parents and non-alcoholic for the teenagers, in her only daughter's honor. During theses times, the normal time to introduce one's child was when they turned eighteen, but she was Ileana Holloway, after all, wife of the rich and handsome Christopher Holloway, one of the richest names in New York during the time.

The first Holloway Winter Ball was held in Holloway's brownstone home in the East Side of the bustling New York City. It would be held there again for two more years, the last on Elisabeth's eighteenth birthday, a few months before she got engaged and married to her high school sweetheart.

After Elisabeth Holloway married Damien Foxworth, it became known as the Foxworth Winter Ball and was then held every year on Christmas in the Foxworth Home where she built her home with her husband and later, two children.

Every year it was held, Elise, Tim, Nathan and Elliot danced the night away, mingling with their friends, staying away from their parents and delving through the Christmas presents on the always present giant Christmas Tree in the middle of the Ballroom. Up until Elisabeth's death, Christmas was Cuddy's favorite holiday.

Once Barbara took over and Damien gave her free reign over the Winter Ball, Cuddy spent the last of her Christmases in various different places with Tim, having fun and doing whatever they wanted, well away from their homes and with other people.

"This year, everyone is coming," Nathan said, smiling encouragingly. "And I'm sure they would all love to see you again…"

"Yes," Cuddy shook her head. "It's always fun to come back as the ghost of the Christmas past."

"What are you talking about?" Nathan asked, confused.

"They think I'm dead, Nathan," Cuddy pointed out.

"They don't think that," Nathan said, shifting from one foot to the other.

Cuddy gave him a look.

Nathan grinned. "Well, some of them think so, but can you blame them?" He held her hand in his, squeezing it slightly. "They haven't seen you in what? Twenty something years?"

"Which is good reason not to ever come back," Cuddy said, frowning. "Listen, Nate, I'm really…busy today and I'm sorry you had to come back, but really…I can't."

"Ellie will miss you again this year," Nathan said. "You think this year's gift from the courier will cut it this year with his current condition?"

Cuddy glared at him. "You think this is easy for me? You think I _want _this?"

"Well you're certainly not giving me reason not to think you don't want this," Nathan said accusingly.

She felt her temper start to rise again and she turned sharply to face him, her eyes meeting his despite the height difference. "Don't you dare say that! You don't _know _how hard this has been for me! You have no idea so just shut up!"

"How am I supposed to know how hard it's been for you when I haven't been allowed anywhere near you for the last twenty years?" Nathan barked, his cheeks reddening. "Don't think it hasn't been hard for me, Elise, because you have no idea what I've been through. You think I haven't tried forgetting you? I did, yes, I did, but I realized, a long time ago, I couldn't! Don't think you're the only one who's been suffering! I've been waiting for twenty years!"

"No one asked you to wait!" Cuddy yelled back without thinking and before she could stop herself, it was out and she saw the clear hurt flash across his face. "Oh, god, Nate, I…"

"No," Nathan said, shaking his head as he took a step back from her, his hand motioning for her to stay back. "Just…don't, Elise."

"I didn't mean…" Cuddy stammered. "Nathan…"

"No, I get it," Nathan said quietly, his green eyes darkening. "I understand."

"Nate, really, I didn't mean to say that," Cuddy said, reaching for his hand, but he took another step back from her.

"Then what did you mean?" Nathan asked.

"I…" Cuddy felt her bottom lip quiver. "I…I don't know…"

"Elliot is sick and you won't come back for him," Nathan said, looking at her as if it was the first time he was seeing her. "And you…you just…If you won't come back for Elliot, why should I think you would come back for me?"

"Nathan, I…can't…"

"You _won't_," Nathan shook his head. "God, I don't…I don't even know you anymore. The Elise I knew, the one I loved and still love, she would have moved Heaven and Hell for her brother who gave her everything in the world, who would do anything for her…but you? Who are you?"

"Nathan," Cuddy felt her heart break. "It's not like that."

"Then how is it like, Elise?" Nathan asked harshly. "How is it like?"

"I love Elliot and I…" she felt her breath hitch. "I love you too, but…"

She couldn't understand why she felt herself hesitate telling him she loved him, but the earlier conversation with Tim had given her the subtle answer. She didn't know if she still loved him the same way he seemed to still love her after so many years of being apart.

For some reason, that hurt her in ways she did not expect.

And she knew, even if she couldn't tell him face to face, it hurt him, deeper than it hurt him when she left and never went back. Oh, how he's still waiting, it confused and twisted her with guilt.

"Then come home," Nathan said, reaching for her hands, holding on to them in his. "Come back with me…it doesn't have to be today, just promise you'll come back."

"I…" she felt her mouth go dry when his lips touched her knuckles.

"If you're scared, you know I won't let anything happen to you," Nathan promised. "I'll be there for you, Elise, like always…"

Cuddy's eyes met his, "I'll try."

All the hurt and the confusion immediately went away and a look of pure joy came onto his handsome face. "Oh, thank God!" he said, smiling wide. "That…Oh, Elise…" He bent down to kiss her, but Cuddy turned her head away at the last moment, his lips not even touching her cheek.

"No," she said, her eyes falling to the floor as she unlaced her fingers from his.

"What? Elise, wh-why not?" he asked, tilting her chin up with the tips of his fingers.

Cuddy felt her heart slam against her chest. She didn't know why she didn't want to kiss him, but when she turned her head away, she hadn't thought about it and had immediately acted on instinct. Why didn't she want to kiss Nathan? She missed him, she did, but why couldn't she kiss him now?

And of course, she loved him in a way that she always would. Nathan was everything and had always been everything for and to her. Through all their years, he'd been nothing but faithful, never hurtful and always willing to do everything she asked and needed of him.

She supposed she would love him, always, but if he asked her, at that very moment if she was _still _in love with him, she was afraid she wouldn't know what to say and wind up hurting him.

The answers lingered and Tim's voice was screaming in the back of her head, but Cuddy couldn't hear them above the sound of her thundering heart. She could see the hurt spreading on Nathan's beautiful face again and she felt guilty she was causing him more pain.

"I-I have employees around," she said, thinking on her feet. "I-I don't want them seeing us…like this when they don't even know you and-and they're going to start talking and no, I don't want that right now, okay?"

He smiled. "Right," he glance at the doors. "Looks like your Clinic is busy and your assistant is busy too. By the way, she's quite reliable, despite what that messy doctor of yours says."

"House?" Cuddy asked, her eyes widening. She'd forgotten about him for a moment. "Why? What did you talk about?"

"Nothing in particular," Nathan frowned. "But he's so dirty and disrespectful, why do you keep him around, Elise?"

Cuddy felt herself stiffen at the description. "He's not messy and he's a brilliant doctor. And no, he's not disrespectful…he just has a different kind of humor."

"Is that what they call it now?" Nathan mused as he walked away and sat down on the seat across from her. "'A different kind of humor'?"

Cuddy glared at him. "What I do with my hospital and what kind of employees I keep is none of your business, Nathan."

Nathan's brows furrowed. "Oh, right, sorry…I was just making an observation."

Cuddy sighed and sat down. "No, it's fine. I'm sorry…God, it's really been so stressful lately."

"And it seems I'm not making it any better, huh?" Nathan said, looking sheepish, shoving his hands in his pockets the same way he always did that she used to find adorable.

She smiled. "No, not really, no…"

"I'm staying at The Pierre," he said. "Lionel and I have taken up a suite there."

Cuddy smirked. The most expensive hotel in the area, of course, it was so typical snob-Nathan. One of the potential pitfalls of being born with too much of everything, she knew well enough of that herself, _a long time ago_. "That's a nice place."

Nathan nodded. "Yes, and it's near here which is good."

"You're with Lionel?" Cuddy smiled, remembering the man fondly. "How is he?"

"Did you hear about Irena?" he asked.

Cuddy nodded sadly. "Yes, Tim called me."

"He did mention receiving flowers from an old friend," Nathan said, raising an eyebrow. "Tulips, I hear, they were her favorites."

"Yes, they were," Cuddy smiled, remembering the bustling lady who ran the Winslow home and at the same time kept careful eyes on Nathan. "I sent them when I heard."

"He was very touched about that," he smiled. "You've always been thoughtful."

Cuddy smiled as she picked up her briefcase. "Irena was lovely. She was always nice to me."

"She loved you," he said. "But then, who didn't?"

Cuddy didn't bother to respond and decided to let the awkward pause to settle. The answer was clear enough between them.

"Damien misses you too…"

"Nathan."

"Barbara _is _sorry."

"_Nathan_, please."

"Things have changed."

"Stop it."

"Elise…"

"Stop!" Cuddy looked up, her eyes flashing. "Just leave it alone, okay? I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. I have work to do and I think so do you."

"It's my law firm," Nathan said, leaning back. "I've informed them I'm taking a few months off."

"Months?"

"I want to be there for you and for Elliot," the sincerity in his voice was clear.

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he said, smiling. "And we certainly have a lot of catching up to do."

"Yes, we do," she nodded as she pulled out a few files from her bag and turned on her computer. "But you'll have to excuse me while I work."

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"Huh?" she tapped her fingers as she read the file in front of her, waiting for her computer to get ready. "How does what feel?"

"Being a doctor, reaching your dreams."

She looked at him, "It feels great. What about you?"

"Still dreaming," he said, smiling sheepishly.

She chuckled and shook her head, "Of course."

For a moment, Cuddy felt like their old relationship was back and for the first time since he came, she felt she could breathe easier around him.

And it felt nice.

-o0o-

House stood by the elevators with the strange woman next to him, she was palming her iPhone, tapping it impatiently. Her black outfit was dramatic, even for him, and though she was quite pleasant to look at, he felt no tugging in him.

He figured Wilson might want her.

"So, you're a friend of the she beast?" he asked, tapping his cane softly.

"Yes," she said without looking at him. "Call me Tim."

"Why did your parents name you Artemis?"

Seriously, why would any parent do that to a kid?

"My mom is a crazy, narcissistic weirdo," she replied easily. "And my father is an idiot, on occasion. What's it to you?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Just find it interesting."

"My parents are Greek," she said shrugging. "My mother loved the stories. She thought Artemis was a pretty name."

"Huh," House mumbled. "Less interesting."

She smirked.

"So…" he began but her phone began to ring.

"Finally," she barked as she answered the phone. "I told you to call me as soon as possible!"

He raised his eyebrows, watching her transform to some cocky little Catholic-girl gone wild thing to a crazy-pissed off banshee. He concluded she was a crazy, perhaps as crazy as Cuddy herself without the ass. He leaned against the panel between the two elevators, watching her.

"Are you kidding me?" she suddenly bellowed into her phone, making him snicker. "Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is that? Tell that insipid little moron I am firing his ass if he pulls something like this _again_! He's not the only blonde bimbo in the greater New York area! I can walk in a goddamned restaurant on Seventh Avenue and dress some monkey waiter in his costume and he's replaced for good so either her pulls his shit together or he's gone, I don't care if we're well into half of the script! Christ. The goddamned moron is more trouble than he's worth! No, don't you start making excuses for him, I don't give a damn. Tell him either he gets it together or he's fired and never working in the state again!" she growled. "Put him on the phone…I said put the idiot on the phone! Now!"

House waited, grinning wide as he watched the crazy woman rant on her phone. He hadn't bothered to let her know the elevator was already there while the people, doctors and nurses mostly, stared at her like she had two heads.

"_Patrick, how many times do I have to tell you that _I do not want another stereotypical blonde idiot on my set!_ I do not, for the life of me, get what is so fascinating about having a hapless, brainless idiot with a pair of D-cups who doesn't know anything except how to say 'hot' like their tongue is glued up to their fucking palate! No, this is not 'Employee of the Month' or a damned remake of 'Dukes of fucking Hazard'! I say it again before I toss out your pretty boy ass! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY CASTING TEAM AND DO YOUR DAMN JOB! Go memorize your damn lines, they're not so hard and you have lesser chances of screwing up! Go! I don't care how many blowjobs were promised! Go hire a hooker or call one of your sodomite friends, damn it! Better yet, take off your sock and put it to good use! Do it like the rest of the desperate race!"_

House actually tossed his head back and laughed as the elevator doors closed, the people still staring at the errant raven haired woman as she tapped her feet menacingly.

He thinks he can actually see fear etched at some of their faces.

Growling, she shoved her phone back into her bag. "Where is that damned elevator? God, and here I thought Lisa was kicking ass around this place."

House smirked. "You missed the first trip, but that was quite a show."

She looked around and they both saw some people in the vicinity immediately avert their eyes away from hers. She shook her head. "If this was New York, people would have just upped the volumes of their iPods or talked louder on the phone too."

"Welcome to Jersey," he smirked. "So you're not a fan of blondes?"

"Only the moron ones," she huffed. "You'd think there's a brainless blonde factory in this country, it's unbelievable, really, and I'm in the theater."

"So…you're an actress?" he asked, remembering his little thespian from a few days ago. He was sure if he got her an audition, he won't have to pay for the next day he orders. _Cool._

"God no," she groused, pressing the button for the elevator again. "I own a theater."

"Huh," he said, feigning interest. "Theater got a name?"

"The Village Stage," she answered.

House raised an eyebrow. "The Village Stage?"

He remembered Wilson's tickets, the ones he offered for House's mother. He remembered spottting them on Wilson's desk, The Village Stage was the name on the heading, that much he remembered.

"Yes," she nodded. "With a nice bag of cash, some merchants, a few minions—you can pretty much do anything you want."

"And you want to run a theater full of idiots?" he asked.

"I pay them to scream at them," she shrugged. "And it doesn't bother them; it's a win-win situation of sorts, really."

The elevator opened once more, this time empty. He waddled in and she followed.

"So how long have you known our fearless leader with the boobs and ass?" he asked, watching the doors close while she stood next to him.

"Since she was still somewhat flat chested," she answered nonchalantly.

He grinned. "Cool. So, you _know _her."

"Yes," she nodded. "And I know you."

"Oh?" he started tapping his cane again.

"You're the ass who didn't want to be saved," she said, looking at him with her piecing sea-green eyes. "You're the obsessed fanatic who almost sacrificed one of his employees for a puzzle with a gun. _You _are the son of a bitch who likes hookers, drugs and booze."

He smirked. "Glad to know she talks about me so fondly."

She matched his smirk, "Yes, I don't like you, but you amuse me so you get to live."

"I get to live?" he echoed. "Why, Mrs. Smith, I'm terrified."

She smiled at him eerily. "Oh, honey," she leaned closer, her eyes meeting his. "You _should _be," she blinked. "But not of me...yet."

"Then of who? Snipers? Assassins? Bouncers? The mob?"

"Of Lisa, of course," she said with a laugh. "She's not as sugar and spice as you think, Dr. House. You haven't known her long enough."

"And you have? When, during training bra and tissue paper years?" he mocked.

"And beyond," she said. "You don't know her as well as you so often think."

The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival at House's floor. "Then I must protest, dear lady! I've known lady funbags from far and beyond, she is as transparent as…" he thought for a moment. "I can't think of a sexual metaphor funny enough."

She rolled her eyes as they walked out. "Whatever you say, tripod…"

"Now you're just being mean," he sighed dramatically. "You're supposed to be the nice pretty donor lady who's got too much money, miserable rich witch."

She smirked. "I am the nice pretty potential donor lady with money so you stop being an ass before I tell your boss."

"Scared," he pretended to shiver. "Welcome to my humble abode," he pushed the glass doors to the conference area of his office open. "And those little boys and half-boy, half girl and homey are my team, feel free to scream at them."

He led her into the room, his team watching them curiously as she stepped in. "Cozy," she commented as she looked around. "Lisa does spoil you."

"Oh, you," he pretended to be bashful.

"Uh, House?" Kutner asked, looking at the woman whose eyes were now on him. "Is this another fake patient?"

"No, Indian boy," House said. "This," he motioned to Tim who was looking at his team, watching them with critical, but quite eerie eyes. "Is a potential donor and a friend of Cuddy's. They both came from the same specie: crazy shrieking banshee—the almost extinct kind."

Foreman stood up, frowning at him. "House," the warning was in his tone, ever the faithful errand-boy-slash-Cuddy's-bitch. He moved towards Tim. "Good morning, welcome to the Diagnostic Department, Dr. House is our head, we are his team. For any insults he may have thrown at you, I apologize. He can't help it if he's an ass. I'm Dr. Eric Foreman."

She smiled and shook his hand as well, "Thank you, but as a crazy shrieking banshee, be assured that I _can _handle Dr. House and his…infantile tendencies."

Kutner and Thirteen suppressed their snickering and House stuck his tongue out at them.

"You can call me Tim," she said. "Dr. Cuddy thinks I can do some growing up around House."

"She always did suck at scheming," House mused aloud.

"Wait," Kutner said, getting that look on his face when he figured out something. "Tim as _the_ in _Tim Theodoratus_? Of The Village Stage in New York?"

"Uh, who?" Taub asked, raising his eyebrows as he stared at the woman.

House stared at his fellow, his little pit of useless facts and disasters. "She owns The Village Stage; she wrote and directed _Black Widow's Kiss_, the Broadway hit last year. _She _was the one who did a Goth version of Ibsen's A Doll's House. She's a genius."

House looked at the woman next to him, "Genius?"

She smiled, "Good to know someone's educated of some semblance of culture around here. Thank you…"

Kutner was immediately on his feet, hand out, "Dr. Lawrence Kutner, Miss Theodoratus, I'm a fan of your work and your theater. The renovations you did on the old 42nd Street Theater was awesome. I went last year to watch _Black Widow_."

She smiled and shook his hand, "Then I'll be sure to send you a ticket for my next show on then. This year I'm playing the same old Charles Dickens classic for the kiddies and families, but next year, I'm back with something new. And please, call me Tim."

He smiled widely, prompting House to roll his eyes as he tossed his bag to his main office next door. "Oh, cool. Thanks."

"So you're a friend of Dr. Cuddy's?" Taub asked, skeptically.

"Yes, we've been friends for quite some time now," Tim said generously.

"She's Cuddy's pseudo-gay-lesbian lover," House said, wobbling his way to the white board. He pointed his cane at Thirteen. "She's bi, by the way, and obviously hot. You can have a go at it if you want; I know Cuddy's been fantasizing about threesomes lately. Watch out Foreman, poor doctor homey doesn't stand a chance against rich, hot, crazy white chick."

Tim looked at Thirteen who was glaring at House. "Don't we have a case?"

"In a minute," he looked at Tim. "And if you need to do a Lord of the Rings stage version, you can borrow Dr. Taub. He'll make a great Bilbo."

"Gee, thanks," Taub said sarcastically. "I've always dreamed of becoming a Broadway sensation."

"See? I'm a good person," House grinned.

"So how close are you to Dr. Cuddy?" Kutner asked instead.

"As close as he is," she motioned to House. "With his pseudo-gay-gay-Oncologist lover only I haven't successfully killed any of her boyfriends yet."

House raised his eyebrows. "My, my, who knew Dr. Cuddy was so chatty?"

She smiled, "Obviously you didn't."

House frowned and turned to his team instead, "So, how's our dying patient?"

-o0o0o0o0o0o0o-

Too long?

Here we go. Tim and House seem to be okay, huh? For now—you'll see soon. She does know things, doesn't she? And Nathan and Cuddy are getting along…who likes? LOL

And was Kutner too OoC about knowing Tim? I thought about it and I came up with the conclusion that of all the Ducklings, Kutner would be the one who would know facts like this most. He seems like the type with a lot of interests, as we saw on _Mirror, Mirror_.

Anyway, again, I'm sorry it took me so long. Exams and my grandpa (I am so, so, so glad he's okay) just piled on…I am exhausted. I hope you liked the chappie!

Replies:

DoctorLisaCuddy: thank you for your reviews, but believe me! I am struggling. Sometimes, I just want to type everything that happens in one page and tell you the ending because the middle is driving me crazy!

reginablair: I thought so…ehe, (_blush) _we'll see what I can do about that.

Shikabane-Mai: I love your long reviews! And I have to admit, I miss writing flashbacks and I think I'll have one for you guys next chapter, we'll see. And now that you've seen the characters meet, what do you think? I know it's not as chaotic, but think of it as calm before the Huddy-storm. And about Cuddy's name? Yeah, but there'll be a lot of explanations when or how it came to that. I'm trying to write as much details as possible, enough to make the story believable and so you guys can understand it better. I hope I don't mess it up!

Kakashifangrl1012: another long reviewer, which I love, love, love! I have to admit, I spoiled myself with the cars…I'm glad you like! And as I wrote to Shikabane, I love writing the flashbacks and I hope to write more soon, I'm so glad you like them! _Oh, and I totally agree on the whole Unfaithful thing! I laughed my tushie off when Cuddy barged into Wilson's office! So funny! Would it be bad if I said I wish there was more Cuddy-Cameron friendship thing? Because I think it can help with the whole fighting thing between fans. I love the new friendship-like scenes._

Invisable Rose: yeah, too bad the Barbarian isn't dying, but hey, the evil don't die easy—one of the annoying facts of lies. Bah!

Rugbygirrl: I would so love a Tim-bestie too…wouldn't it be cool?

cloybellsouth,net: hey, I tried searching for your username, can't seem to find it. I'll try again, I hope I'll find you. It would be fun PMing with you. And yup-yup-yup, it's the perfect pen name for you! LOL I think for all of us!

IN fact, it would be awesome to PM everyone else, if I wasn't so busy. Bah!

_And to everyone, readers and reviewers thank you so much for reading! I am happy, happy, happy you like my fic! I heart you! You have no idea how happy I get when I see reviews, it's pathetic…LOL_

**On The Softer Side:**

Total LMAO moment on the Foreman scene with almost-dead House! LOL And when House quit I jus went 'WTF!?" and startled everyone around me in school (was watching from my laptop at the lobby) I am so freakin'-pee-in-my-pants-relieved that House came back, no raise and no bigger office and all (that refusal scene reminded me of Foreman's on S4 with the 'House Classic, House Light' scene with Cuddles) …and I must admit, though I have never been a fan of scruffy face, not even on my dad, I have to say I prefer House-messy to House-clean. I don't know. The dirty look just suits Hugh more. _Who agrees? _And **again**! The LAST SCENE…BROKE MY FREAKIN' HEART! But oh, standing too close for comfort for them, but oh so comforting for us…so beautiful, so sad…Poor House. Will the pain ever go without compromising his being awesome? _sigh_ It was an awesome ep. Who agrees? Huddy love, love, love…

And who's read the new spoiler for House, spoiler readers? The one with Wilson and Taub? Whoa. Wilson, Wilson, Wilson. I miss Jimmy.

And the Hugh one where he said HE'S GOT _PLANS _for Huddy? Total Huddy shipper, isn't he? I LOVE him!

_La-la-la-Lies _by _The Who_

Note: _the location for _The Village Stage _is really the location for the _New Victory Theater_, an old theater in 42__nd__ Street of the theater district in New York. Be warned that soon, I will be reshaping the Big Apple to fit my stories so I hope no one minds._


	15. Chapter 14: And So it Goes

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Warning: I am _incredibly _pissed off about the two week skip. How many times have they skipped this season? Gawd, it's so freakin' frustrating! Why? Can anybody tell me? Because when I found out, I didn't bother knowing, but now I'm pissed off and curious.

Note: Ooh, getting lots of reviews and I am so happy to hear your thoughts! Sorry I took a while to update again. Finals is fast approaching, but hey, so is summer so it's all good.

Who saw the promos for the next episode? Oh my freaking God! That was so funny, the scene with the patient and Cuddy. I am going through withdrawal with the damned wait!

Chapter Fourteen: And So it Goes

"Lisa always said you were a great doctor."

House stood, cane firmly set by his uninjured leg, his hand on the surface of the whiteboard while the other toyed with his orange bottle of Vicodin. He was staring at the symptoms, but he wasn't thinking about them. He'd just sent his team out for more tests, seeing as the web of symptoms on the board was nowhere near eliminating the diseases they had left.

"Who are you?" he rumbled, feeling her presence still lingering behind him.

Throughout the diagnosis Cuddy's visitor had stayed, watching them as she sat in a corner where she'd charmed Kutner into bringing her a chair. She'd remained quiet, watching them all with those sea-green eyes. Often, he'd noticed that when she sat, she barely moved, staring at them like a marble statue adorned in black.

It was almost eerie, after he'd seen how active and loud she could be, to see her sitting there like stone, watching them, mostly him, saying nothing.

It made him want to get inside her head, see what she was seeing, hear what she thought and feel what she felt. But the problem was, as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't. Even from his vantage point, he could see that as loud and as bitchy she was, she was also tough with high walls he knew he would have to metaphorically climb, if not, shatter.

And the fact that she obviously _knew_ Cuddy enough to taunt him about it and that Cuddy herself let her be alone with him meant she either trusted her implicitly or knew the stranger didn't have anything to tell House that was worth keeping. He knew it was the former, seeing as the Tim knew exactly how to taunt him and seemed to know Cuddy well enough.

There was something about her, about her with Cuddy, something he knew was worth digging for. This woman was smug about knowing Cuddy, claiming she knew her _better _than House did, which to him was inconceivable. Lisa Cuddy was Lisa Cuddy, the same hot seventeen-year-old who'd given him bruises that did not involve sex or anything of the nature. _House _knew her, inside out, knew her enough to predict her moods, her train of thought, her intentions and even her monthly period. What else was left to know?

_There's still something…_

It bugged the hell out of him.

What could he possibly _not _know that this Tim character did?

"All that doctoring and suddenly you forget my name?" she snorted. "Huh, makes me wonder about sex with you."

He turned, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "I asked who you are and you jump to sex," he grinned, he couldn't help it. "Forward, I like it."

She smirked at him, one leg crossed over the other, bouncing her boot clad leg on her knee. "I'm not coming on to you, moron. God, I'm not desperate."

He smirked turning his body away from the board and hobbled to stand across from her while he stood behind the table his fellows used for diagnosing and everything else. "You didn't answer my question. You know I wasn't asking about your name. Who are you?"

"Lisa's best friend," she shrugged. "Or pseudo-gay-lesbian lover, if you want."

"_Lisa_ doesn't have a best friend," he said, watching her slowly. "Her last best friend was in college, but it turned out she was just an airhead so that crashed and burned."

The woman who insisted to be called a name more appropriate for a boy, smiled. "You think you have her all figured out, don't you?"

"It's not like it's hard," he said, mentally brushing a puzzle labeled 'Lisa Cuddy' away and shoving it back in the 'finished' pile where the rest of his finished puzzles were stored. He'd stored it in there some twenty years ago. "She's got funbags, an ass to match , brain worth more for Administrating and seducing for cash without true pleasure from rich dirty old men and frustrated trophy wives, baby-mama-wannabe, desperate for that very special grunted I love you, accompanied of course by thrust for thrust and…that's pretty much it."

Tim shook her head. "Greg," she crooned. "You look like shit, but you mean and believe what you say and I'm telling you now to believe your own tagline: Everybody lies."

"You think Cuddy's lying to me?" he asked, challengingly.

"You tell me," she challenged with a serene smile. "Since you know her so well, right?"

"Her favorite color is blue and light pink, very clichéd, but hey," he shrugged as he began to twirl his cane. "Her mother's name is Ileana Cuddy," he watched as the corners of her mouth curled up, but he went on. "She has one sister, she lost her virginity a few weeks away from turning seventeen, she was born in New York, grew up there. Wanted to be a doctor and started lying to her mommy dearest both at the age of twelve, she graduated second in her class at the age of twenty-five, she had a dog she tragically named Butterfly which she shortened to Butter though it didn't make sense because he was a black Scottish Terrier. Butter was a gift from her mother once upon a Hanukkah, but he died at the age of seven just a few days before her graduation, she was seventeen."

"You know about Butter," Tim said, slowly, nodding. "Did she tell you how he died?"

"Nope, but I assumed it was from old age," he shrugged. "Usually that's old enough."

Tim grinned. "How do you know about her mother's name?"

"Oh," he shrugged. "Around."

"Ah," Tim nodded. "What else?"

"Why should I tell you?" he asked. "_You_ knowher _so _well…"

"Who knows," she shrugged, much like the way he was doing. "I might have missed some things. I haven't been around for the last few years, busy and all. Maybe you can help me?"

"Yeah, you're a great best friend," he said sarcastically.

She didn't seem affected by his sarcasm. "Lisa's complicated," she said, standing up and walking towards the table that separated them. "She has her secrets, as I do have my own," she leaned forward, flattening her palms against the glass table. "Maybe you know something I don't?"

He smirked. She was fishing. "Well, there is something," he leaned forward, mimicking her position. "Maybe it's something you should know."

She leaned forward, curious. "There is?"

"Yeah," he leaned closer, his eyes meeting hers head on. "I'll tell _if _you tell me how Butter died."

She smiled. "You first."

"Nope," he shook his head. "Ladies first since I am a gentleman."

"That's a far cry from what I've heard," she crooned, her bottom lip jutting out, the rouge on her lips appearing quite alluring and delicious. "I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours. You have my word, Dr. House."

She was fishing for a secret, how much more if she was really fishing for sex? He felt his anatomy shift. He didn't find her as attractive as her alleged best friend, but hell, one would have to be dead not to feel anything with the way she was practically moaning her words and acting like she was a breath away from pouncing on him.

"No," he wasn't that easy. "Ladies first."

The taunting light in her eyes died immediately then she leaned away from him, her bottom lip getting back into place, a sigh escaping her lips. "Someone killed Butter."

House's eyes widened. "Someone killed her dog?"

"Yes, someone killed her dog."

"As in intentional?" he asked, intrigued now.

She rolled her eyes. "If it was an accident, I would have said so."

"How? And Who?"

Tim smirked, "Uh-uh, I told you now you tell me."

House frowned. "Mean."

"I know you are but what am I?" she taunted. "Lisa might be keeping something but I do know things about you, Greg. I know about Amber, what else do you think I know?"

"I didn't kill her," he gritted out. He didn't. She got up on that bus herself. Like she said, she was an idiot that way. He didn't ask her to come. It wasn't his fault.

"I didn't say you did," she answered. "I'm saying I know what happened."

"Well, ding-ding-ding, congratulations," he rolled his eyes.

"Kudos to you though," Tim hummed. "There were guys Lisa dated that I wanted to kill, but never got around to."

"Why? Chicken?" he smirked.

"No," she shook her head slightly. "I could shoot those dicks down, but I was more worried about Lisa. Sure, they were asses but it would have affected her. She's a guilt-whore."

He smiled deviously. "That she is. Nice."

"I'd hate how torn she'd be if one of her Tom, Dick and Harry's died because of her lunatic best friend," Tim said dramatically.

"You'd make her a lot more happy if you just killed them," House muttered. "Make it look like an accident…" he stopped, realizing how that might have sounded like.

"Well," she drawled out. "I'm more into theatre, I design my own stage, but surely I can't be as great as you. I mean, getting that truck to hit _the _bus you rode on? Very professional."

He glared at her.

"Oh, don't get your bloomers in a twist," she dismissed. "God, why are you so defensive? I _know _you didn't kill her, okay? In fact, the whole electrocuting-the-cracked-skull routine was very…noble of you."

"It wasn't noble," he said automatically.

Why was he being defensive anyway? He didn't have to explain himself. Not to Wilson, not to Cuddy and especially not to this nosy twit. He needed to get a grip.

"Sure it was," she said, shrugging. "I'd do anything for Lisa, just like you'd do anything for Wilson."

"I'd steal his food so he won't get fat, take the remote so he doesn't watch those trashy shows, steal his car so he won't get into an accident," he rattled on. "But that's pretty much it."

She laughed. "Whatever you say, Gregory."

"Don't you and Cuddy have some girl-on-girl bonding time to do?" he snarled. "And maybe, can I watch from a little hole on the wall?"

"Lisa's kind of busy," she muttered. "And don't get bitchy on me. This is cramping my style as it is, hanging out with you when I have a lot to deal with all over."

"Like what?" he asked, happy now to have her off his back.

"Like you not giving me that secret," she smirked. "Your turn," she crossed her arms over her chest, which weren't exactly small, he noted happily.

He smiled, pulling back and hooking his cane on his arm. She wasn't as easy to lose as he'd thought. "She…likes to be on top."

He waited for the reaction, expecting her to bitch about being cheated, but instead she just smiled, arms still on her chest. She shook her head, "Honey, I've seen her with her head between her legs, do you really think I _don't _know that?"

His eyes widened. What the hell was that supposed to mean. "What did you just say?"

Tim smirked, "Exactly what you heard, darling."

House tried to imagine that and the image came, only slightly distorted. The corners of his own mouth began to curl.

"Pervert," Tim suddenly called.

House looked up, dazed from the image of Cuddy and her legs and him. "Your fault."

"I meant yoga," she said, laughing. "And the occasional times she wasn't feeling well and needed to have her head between her legs. God, you are easy."

He scowled. "Mean."

"I know," she said shrugging one shoulder. "Since that's all you have for me, I guess it means _you _don't have anymore than you think I do."

He smiled, the most evil one he could muster. "Don't bet on it."

She responded with just a smile that was just as evil. "Wouldn't dream of it…"

"Good," he nodded and began to walk away. He had some saved porn in his files—new arrivals from yesterday and the image of Cuddy and her legs were going to come in handy.

_No pun intended, of course…_

"…I hate playing a game I already know I'll win."

He stopped and slowly turned only to be faced with sea-green eyes. He stumbled back. "Whoa."

She smiled innocently. "Sorry."

"You were saying?" he asked, clearing his throat, standing right in front of her, close enough to smell her perfume. It was something…alluring.

"You're losing," she said cheerily before skipping off, her boots clicking happily.

If she wanted him to chase her then she was out of her damned mind.

Glaring after the woman, he turned and walked straight into his office. He didn't need to bother about her, no matter who she was to Cuddy. To House, she was simply full of crap.

He knew all there was to Lisa Cuddy.

But then again, why was there a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach?

House growled under his breath.

_The bitch had to go._

-o0o-

"Stop it."

Nathan smiled as Elise's bent head, previously concentrated on the legal pad in front of her, shot up to give him a familiar look. Her eyes were serious, but not to the point where they would change color with her mood, her lips pursed, but curled at the corners. The look was of a more playful version of her serious look which meant she noticed his staring but not really bothered by it. Well, at least, not enough to annoy her completely.

"Stop what?" he asked, getting into a familiar rhythm of banter he's missed for a while now. This was something old, something familiar between the two of them. The only thing missing was her sitting next to him, smacking him with her Chemistry notebook.

"Stop staring," she huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "I've got a lot to finish today. Don't you have work? I mean, you're on vacation, but don't you have anything else to do?"

He shrugged. "I'm on vacation means _I'm on vacation_ so no work, nothing."

"But vacation," she drawled the word out. "Usually means an island somewhere far, a tiny umbrella in a glass with a generous amount of alcohol inside, sand, sun and some pretty thing in a two piece bikini in the Hampton house."

"No, it doesn't," he said, shaking his head. "Vacation means relaxing and I," he leaned back in his seat and let his long arms fall to his sides, looking very much relaxed and lazy, "Am very much relaxed _here_. So, vacation."

"Vacation means _no _suits," she pointed out, the corners of her mouth curling higher up as she cradled. "And _that _suspiciously looks like a suit." She wrinkled her nose which was still adorable to him. "Armani, if I am not mistaken."

He chuckled, pulling his arms up and pulled the chair closer to her desk, leaning his forearms on the edge. "Well, I didn't know how to dress. You always used to take care of that…"

He felt bad dredging up the past when it was so painfully obvious she wasn't up to talking about it, not even her supposedly dying brother. But time was of the essence, he needed to work faster and she needed to make her decision.

Nathan knew her, no matter what name she carried. She would be torn about staying away and flying to be by her brother's side, but in the end, she would go, no matter what the consequences may be. She would go because that was the way she was. She would go because she loved Elliot more than anything.

She would go because she was scared of losing the last piece of her family left for her.

Her smile faded and the twinkle in her eyes dimmed. "Well, you don't look like you need help dressing now. You look…perfect."

"Elise," he said, removing his arms from her desk and settling his elbows on his knees instead. "I didn't know what to wear, really. How was I supposed to dress after not seeing you for…two decades? I mean, I didn't know how you'd expect me to look. Suits are pretty much normal now so, I went with it."

"The suit looks good," she smiled slightly. "You look very handsome, it fits you. It doesn't matter what you wear. You're beautiful."

"No, _you _are beautiful," he said sincerely. "You look more beautiful now than way back then. You've always been beautiful to me."

"And you always told me so," she smiled genuinely now. "You always spoiled me." She leaned back in her seat, watching him. "But I always liked you more in turtlenecks."

He smiled, remembering. "Christmas, nineteen eighty-four, I remember. You gave me one." He made a face. "A sweater, really, for _Christmas_ and I gave you that bracelet from Tiffany's…"

"Hey," she pouted. "That was cashmere and it was very nice. It matched your eyes. I was playing safe, I knew you would look great in it. You said you loved it!"

"I did," he grinned. "I did, Lily, you know I did. I still have it."

She smiled. "You were always so sentimental."

"What happened to the bracelet?" he asked, remembering the bracelet vividly. It was a charm bracelet, each charm selected carefully by him, each one holding some sort of meaning or a symbol for something. He'd picked out everything especially for her.

He remembered opening the small box for her as she waited, bouncing lightly on her heels as she stood in the snow, her cheeks and nose red, her hands clad in leather gloves clasped in from of her face. When he opened it, telling a small story about each of the charm, she'd let him slip it around her wrist before she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight then kissing him.

It was the happiest moment he'd ever spent in Central Park and everything had been beautiful.

That day she told him she loved him, like she did every day, but that day, it was special for no other reason except that it was Christmas, he was with her, she was with him and nothing else mattered in that moment.

She blinked slowly, "It's in my jewelry box at home, locked in. I haven't worn it in years."

"But you still have it," he smiled. "That makes me feel…happy."

"I know," she smiled.

They sat, looking at each other, with fond smiles on their faces. The memories were flowing through him, making him feel warm, bringing back all those years, all those memories when everything had been so simple then.

"_Butter," Elise called with frustration. "Butter, come on!"_

_He watched, as she bent on all fours, her head underneath her four-poster bed, curls of beautiful brown hair touching the floor. "Butterfly, please, come out."_

"_You have a butterfly underneath your bed?" he asked with a grin and watched as she jumped and turned to face him, her pretty face indignant as she tried vainly to pull her short flowery skirt back into place, her right foot rubbing over her left, pulling at her white leggings to put it back in place and smoothing her blouse down._

"_Nathan Winslow what are you doing in my room?" she bellowed, her cheeks turning pink. "Go away! No boys allowed!" a petulant little finger pointed at the hall behind him._

"_Aunt Elisabeth let me in," he said, not intending to move. "She said it's time to go."_

"_Go away!" she screamed. "Get out! Out! Out!"_

"_Come on, Lily," Nathan said, grinning. "I have a present for you."_

"_I don't care, get out!" she screamed. "I don't want presents from boys!"_

"_Now, now, Elise," came a voice from the hall and her mother appeared in a yellow summer dress. She stood behind Nathan and placed her hand on his shoulders. "Nathan was just coming to get you. It's time to come down, everybody is waiting for the birthday girl."_

"_But Butterfly won't come out!" she whined, pointing at the space under her bed. "She won't come out, mommy."_

"_You have a butterfly under your bed," Nathan didn't ask this time._

"_No, I don't!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Mommy gave me a puppy!"_

_Nathan stared at her before he started laughing. "You named a dog Butterfly?"_

"_Nathan Winslow don't you laugh at me!" she stomped her foot angrily. "Stop laughing!"_

"_Elise, be nice," her mother said, softly, squeezing Nathan's shoulder to stop him._

_He tried to but the giggles kept coming. "Butterfly for a dog. Does he have wings?"_

"_Stop that!" the birthday girl screamed. "Stop that right now!"_

_He laughed harder, not that he could help it, and clutched his stomach, his dress shirt that his mother warned him about keeping clean surely crumpling._

"_Stop I said! Stop!" and before he knew it, the little thing came barreling at him and he made no hesitation to run. He laughed harder as she took off after him._

"_Children, no running in the house!" he heard her mother call, but didn't stop as she chased after him. "Elise! Frederick, the kids!"_

"_Butterfly for a dog is a stupid name!" he taunted._

"_Shut up!" and she was running, her little legs taking off after him, but he wasn't scared. After all, what did a ten year old girl have against an eleven year old boy?_

_He kept running, weaving down into a hall without looking, sure she was nowhere near catching him. He ran and ran, until he heard a crash then a scream._

_He stopped._

_He heard her start crying._

_He turned and saw her, on the tiled floors, a broken vase around her, clutching her knee as fat tears ran down her cheeks and she hollered._

"_It hurts!" she screamed, sounding as if she was in excruciating pain._

"_Lily," he said, coming to her slowly. "Are you okay?"_

_She didn't answer and instead screamed again, her fingers trembling as they wrapped around her knee. He peered closer, his eyes widening as he saw something red spread through her leggings._

_His mother always said once you see red, that was a bad, bad thing._

_His shiny black shoes stepping over the broken vase, he hurried and crouched next to her as she continued to cry. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, just like his mother taught him to._

"_Go away!" she screamed at him, clutching her knee. "I want my mommy!" She tried to move away from him then screamed again as she stumbled and let her hand shoot out to steady herself on the floor, only to land onto a sharp piece of china._

"_Let me help," he said, lifting her newly injured hand. "I can carry you."_

"_No, you can't," she sobbed harder. "Only daddy can carry me."_

_He let held on to her hand. "I'll call them."_

"_No!" she squeaked, her bloody hand staining his. "Don't leave."_

_He stopped, crouched next to her, wondering what to do. "I can try carrying you. I'm not as big as Uncle Damien, but I am big."_

_She sniffled. "You'll drop me."_

"_If I promise I won't, will you let me?" he asked._

_She looked at her hand, still held in his, seeing the blood she whimpered as she looked at her knee. "Promise?"_

_He smiled. "Promise."_

"_Promise, promise?" she asked, her eyes still filled with tears._

"_Promise, promise," he said, meaning it._

"_Okay," she said, reluctantly. "Don't drop me."_

"_I promised I won't," he said, bracing himself. He'd never carried anything other than his dog, Toby, a fat Dachshund from his Aunt Fran, but Toby was a fat and heavy dog. Plus, he was big for his age, taller than most kids, almost as big as Elliot who was twelve._

_Without a word, he slipped his hands around her back, hearing her whimper as he did so, and let his other arm slip under her legs, careful not to move her injured knee too much._

"_Ready?" he asked, watching her. She nodded, slipping her arms around his neck, holding on tightly. "Here we go…"_

_And to his joy, he lifted her, stumbling slightly from the sudden weight. She wasn't heavy, but she wasn't a feather either._

"_I won't drop you," he said as she began to cry again. "I'll get you out of the sharp stuff."_

"_Okay," was all she said and he began to move, making sure to watch where he was going and not to bump into anything else._

_He walked a few steps, feeling her weight against him, but not really minding. She wasn't that heavy, she was small for newly ten._

"_Here," he said, carefully letting her down onto the floor, well away from the broken vase in the hall. "I'm going to call for help." He stopped when she whimpered. "I promise, I'll come back..."_

"'_Kay," she said, sniffling as she watched him. "Come back."_

"_I will," he said, smiling. He looked around, seeing as they were farther down the hall from her room, seeing the paintings on the wall, the doors to the other rooms and the end of the hall with the plant. "I'm sure Aunt Elisabeth is waiting for us."_

_He didn't have to go far, seeing Elisabeth walking down the hall, frantic with their butler, Frederick, at her heels. She'd panicked at the sight of blood in his hands and he'd led them to Elise as she sat, her head leaning against the wall, sniffling._

"_Lily!" Nathan watched as Elise's mother swept down and held her in her arms as Frederick announced he was going to get the first aid kit. "What happened, darling?"_

"_I slipped and fell," Elise said softly as Nathan crouched next to them again. "I'm sorry."_

"_No, no, it's fine," Elisabeth said, holding on to her daughter as she stared at the broken vase at the foot of the ornately carved table. Nathan looked at her._

"_I'm sorry, Aunt Elisabeth," he said. "I didn't see what happened before it was too late."_

"_It's okay," she said, nodding at him._

"_Nate helped me," Elise said. "He carried me away from the sharp stuff."_

_Elisabeth smiled at Nathan, "Thank you, Nathan."_

_Nathan smiled, "I promised, didn't I?"_

"What are you smiling about?"

He looked up, realizing she must have noticed his daydreaming. "Nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing," Elise said. "You looked like you were miles away."

"Just remembering the old days," he said, smiling. "When things were simpler then."

"Ah," she said, leaning back in her seat. "The tragedies of getting old—reliving."

He chuckled, "Yeah, kinda makes me feel old."

"Hey," she said, frowning slightly though her eyes were smiling. "I am _not _old and you are a year older which means you are not old either."

"Okay, okay, not old then," he laughed. "I'll pretend the thought of you freaking about being old is not surprising me."

"I am not freaking out," she huffed. "It's a fact of life, I know, but it's also a fact that we are not old yet. I think _old _means…sixty or something like that."

"When we were ten, sixteen was _old_ to us," he mused aloud.

"That was then," she said. "When I was ten, I thought Elliot, who was twelve, was a giant and Tim was the coolest _grown up_ ever."

Nathan laughed. "Tim? A _grown up? _Lily, even at the age of ten, you were more mature and sane than Artemis Theodoratus."

She smiled, "Tim's always been a bit of crazy."

"A bit is an understatement," he muttered.

"Nate, come on," Elise said, shaking her head. "This thing with you two is getting old."

"She started it," he said, petulantly despite himself. "I tried to make it work, her and me, but I can't help it if she's a bitch."

"Nathan."

"It's true," he groused.

He couldn't help it. Tim was a bitch who never gave him a break. It didn't help matters too when she always made it clear she thought he wasn't good enough for Elise.

Artemis was a spoiled, bored, miserable bitch who never knew what she wanted in life.. He always suspected she was partly gay. It was a fact he wished were true, at least it would have explained why she was so territorial with Elise.

It was unfair, frustrating and stupid, but Nathan never knew what to do. Tim was important to Elise and Elliot; he had no choice but to acquaint himself with her, despite her abrasiveness.

"Does she know?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly. He didn't want to think about Tim's quite unforgettable traits. A change of subject was needed.

"Yes," Lisa nodded sadly.

Of course he knew Tim already knew, but he figured to acting clueless held more guarantee of him not slipping and getting caught.

It meant lying to Elise _more_.

_Yes, this was such a better topic than the hell that was Tim Theodoratus. Focusing on his ticket to hell…yes, this was _much _better not._

Shit.

Nathan was lying to her, Elise, _Nathan was __lying__ to Elise_.

He's never kept anything big from her before, much less lie about it.

The guilt was eating him alive, slowly, painfully.

And Nathan concluded he hated guilt. Why did he feel the need to feel guilty for lying about this? The end game was what mattered, _to get her to come home_. And to get her home was a good thing, if not great. He was doing the right thing.

Well, he was trying to convince himself that, of course.

But before all that, he needed to hear about Tim. He's never liked her and he was positive she talked to Elliot. What about Elise?

Obviously she hadn't told her the truth yet, but what did she _say_? She always had something to say, one more thing he hated about her.

"What does she think?" he asked, gently, erasing the bitch from his mind.

He was usually not so crass when it came to women, his mother taught him well enough to be a gentleman. But he didn't think Tim qualified to be treated nicely like a lady. She was a bitch. If his mother heard his thoughts, Nathan was sure she was going to ground him regardless if he was now a big time lawyer and past forty years old.

"She thinks I should stay," Elise replied, though the look on her face obviously told him she was still very much undecided. "She said Elliot loves me enough not to drag me back there by not calling me. She's kind of right, but…"

"He's your brother," he finished.

Elise nodded. "He was there for me, always, what about me? So selfish…"

"You're not," he said, shaking his head. "You are not selfish, Elise."

She shook her head, "I don't know what to do, Nate…"

He didn't say anything. What could he say?

Nathan wanted to tell her everything, all of it from the real reason he was there, to Damien, to Elliot, to Barbara, the business, what Tim knew—_everything_. He wanted to confess, to repent, to just tell her he _needed_ her back just as much as her family did. Lying to her hurt him more than he thought it would and he wanted nothing more than to stop now.

He suffered, that much he was willing to admit to her, to Elliot though he didn't have to say because he was the closest thing he had to a brother, and even though she might not believe it, Tim as well. He suffered long and hard, going through the motions as he stayed in New Haven with Elliot, watched Tim flit in and out of Yale, dropping visits and updates about Elise, but never having any personal message from Elise to him.

He suffered hard, always hoping she would call, write or even send a small note through Tim, but there was none. She had cut ties from him and sometimes, even with Elliot, but never Tim. He had reasons he _made_ **to** himself _for_ **her**, about why she was trying to leave him completely. It calmed him, for a time, and it stopped his restless thoughts from going rampant and killed the urge to grab a plane and head to Ann Arbor and take her back with him, where she belonged.

Nathan didn't though and instead he honored her tearful wishes, her heartbreaking pleading to let her go, for a time. He spent his years waiting, hoping for her call.

There were women, of course, women whose faces were a blur in his memories, names he couldn't quite surely place with the blurred face in his mind and some faded memories that barely stood out. They were pathetic attempts to replace her, though he was sure that during those times he was _trying _to replace her, just to get on with his life, hoping though he knew it was nearly impossible. He tried and failed each time.

Elise never truly said goodbye and until she told him it was truly over or until he looked into her eyes and saw love, real love, glowing in them like fire made of ice, _love _that was _not_ meant for him then he would know it was over and he would leave.

If she said she loved someone else and that someone loved her back, he would leave.

Nathan would do it, for her. Anything for her…

If that moment came, he would let go, he would smile, kiss her one last time and let her go. He would tell her goodbye and that he'd miss her and wish her all the happiness in the world because she deserved it. He would free her and at the same time, himself, from everything.

And maybe then Nathan would move on.

But of course, for now, let the charade continue…

"I don't know what to say," he said softly, watching as her face contorted slightly with agony and guilt. "I wish…I wish there was something I could say to make this easier, Lily."

She looked at him, smiling with _that _smile that was Elise in every way. God, he missed that smile. "I know. You haven't changed, Nate. Thank you, for being here. For being the one to tell me."

He felt his own heart break, _if you only knew…what would you say to me then?_

Nathan could feel his heart hammering against his chest. He wanted to tell her. He _needed _to tell her _now_. "Elise, I need to…"

He was going to say more until her phone began to ring loudly, breaking the hollowness of the room where he'd paused to swallow his fears and his breath. "Hold on," she said, raising her hand as she brought her phone to her ear. "This is Dr. Cuddy…" she frowned. "What? Are you sure, Tim?" She growled under her breath. "You've got to be kidding me. Yeah, I'm there. Don't let her go anywhere else…Thank you."

He watched as she growled again, slightly louder as she punched buttons on her phone. "Greg House you better get your ass on the fourth floor stairway. I mean it, you idiot. I don't care if you're damned crippled right now. Just get your ass there."

She punched one last button, "Please page the Diagnostic team to the fourth floor stairway. Tell them it's Dr. Cuddy, stat."

Nathan watched her get on her doctor mode, taking over like a great leader, never losing composure of whatever was going on. In the tone of her voice, with the glow in her eyes and the air of authority she held, he was sure she radiated control and terror in her wake.

He found it quite appealing. It was sexy, very sexy.

She was still the same bossy little girl, from all those years ago, only this time it wasn't about naming her dog or about making a teasing eleven-year-old pay.

This was being an accomplished leader of a hospital. This was the doctor, and, though he loathed admitting, Dr. Lisa Cuddy, M.D., the person she had hoped to be, the person she fought to be…

And he was in awe, watching her take over, focus and just be.

"I'm sorry, Nate," she said, getting up immediately. "I have this…small crisis on the fourth floor."

"With Tim, yes, I gathered," he said with a grin, following her closely. "What'd she do this time?"

"Nothing, she's being good," she said as she grabbed a white coat from the hook by her doors. "It's a patient of Dr. House's."

"Ah, him," he frowned and began to help her with her coat. "The patient all right?"

"Thank you," she said as her coat was set straight. "And I'm just about to find out," she said as she slipped out the door, leaving it wide open in her wake.

Nathan watched the white blur slip away and he wondered for a moment what was going on, if he should follow. He checked his watch and decided it was time for a call.

Taking his phone out, he called a familiar number, "Ellie, it's me…we just had a talk. She's fine…" he paused and took a deep breath.

"_I don't know if I can do this."_

-o0o-

After flitting out of the room, Tim found herself wandering the halls of Lisa's beloved Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She had to see for herself what was so goddamned good about the place that Lisa sacrificed everything she wanted in life just to keep it alive.

Between the two of them, Lisa had been pretty much the domestic one—at least, as domestic as she would risk without losing her mind anyway after some examples of domesticity from the families of their world. Lisa always wanted to have the basics—a husband (Tim vowed to herself she would do everything to have it _not _be Nathan Winslow) and her own child, _someday_. Tim blamed the baby deal on her father for buying her dolls practically every week of when Lisa was still so young.

Dolls from whatever country Damien Foxworth stepped on came for young Elise who delighted in them. They came in all sorts of shapes, sizes and price ranges from simple teddy bears to vintage porcelain dolls circa 1870 to Nineteenth-century French bisque dolls Bru and Jumeau to cartoon characters from Walt-freakin'-Disney himself. Damien gave everything to his little princess and even had one made on her seventh birthday a porcelain doll that looked like her.

Personally, Tim wasn't a fan of dolls and, despite the smacks she'd gotten from Lisa, the little glassy-eyed porcelain doll faces freaked her out. There was a room for the little lady Foxworth's dolls, connected to her bedroom that Tim rarely ever entered willingly. The glassy eyes that seemed to follow her wherever she went simply unnerved her and often, Lisa teased her about it.

Tim didn't care. The crazy-eyed-glassy-freaks simply scared the crap out of her.

Of course, Lisa "didn't" have her favorites, but Tim knew she kept three from her own collection and had them with her now in her home. One was the doll her father had made for her which he named Lily and the second, a scruffy old brown teddy bear named Shoes, a teddy bear her grandfather brought her the first day he came to visit her in the hospital, just a few hours after she was born. And the third was a Raggedy Ann doll, a very old one, from her mother.

Making a note to herself to find wherever Lisa stashed her prized possessions, Tim found herself using the stairs to the higher floors. She hadn't thought it originally, but suddenly, she felt the urge to go up to the roof. She needed to see exactly what dump Lisa was living in, maybe she could find some ginormous flaw to shove in her face and give her enough grounds to be dragged home.

Looking up as she stood on the first step that would lead her to the landing between the third and fourth floor, she stopped when she noticed a woman standing on one leg, the other was stretched far and long, resting on the window's frame on the wall.

The next thing Tim noticed was the woman's outfit—an interesting shade of off-white figureless, wraparound hospital gown. Definitely a patient, she thought, amused.

_Lisa was going to love this_,

"Hey," she said, casually, as she bounded up the steps.

The woman, a blonde, turned to her, smiling. "Oh, hi, sorry…I just needed to stretch for a bit."

"That's fine," Tim said, as friendly as she could muster. "Are you here for…"

"The audition," she said, smiling wider. "Are you the casting director? I mean, I don't really have my gear, but I don't need much of those to dance, right? As long as I have my feet…"

Tim raised an eyebrow. She landed a kook? Excellent. "Ah, yes, the auditions. I'm actually the writer, I'm Tim." She took the last few steps so she was standing on the landing between the floors, eyeing the loon in front of her. "I'm going to be watching you."

The woman smiled, broadly. "That's awesome," she held her hand out. "I'm Mariana Dune."

Tim stared at her hand, wondering if she should risk touching so instead, she took her phone out. "Before we start, why don't I call my partner Lisa? We like…working together."

Mariana smiled. "Cool."

Tim dialed then, as she waited, she immediately realized _this _Mariana was House's patient. She thought House should be thankful for small favors since Thirteen had been the one who kept using the patient's name.

_Shit, things were looking better now._

Smiling as she waited for the big boss to pick up, she looked over the woman. She was a few years younger than her and Lisa, but her body was definitely of a dancer's. She'd heard Taub mention she was a teacher, teaching kids how to dance and as she looked over the woman, she wasn't bad looking either. In fact, she was pretty with her blonde hair and green eyes.

"Hey, honey," she crooned into the phone and began to tell her, in code, about the loose diagnostic patient who was now stretching once more. She smiled wickedly once she heard the exasperation in her best friend's voice.

That was nice to hear.

"Okay," she said, taking a seat on the bottom step in front of Mariana. "She's on her way."

"Great," the woman said, smiling. "This is so awesome, I mean, teaching the kids, don't get me wrong, is fun, but sometimes you can't help it, you know? I want…"

"More?" Tim added questioningly.

"Yeah, kind of," Mariana said.

"Can't fault you for that," Tim muttered. "Tell you what, why don't you show me what you got? Maybe then I can chat you up with my partner."

Of course she wasn't sure if this idea was good, whether this was going to set the patient back, but she's seen enough of the girl. She was fine, alive and apparently in one piece.

Mariana brightened. "That sounds great." She walked to the middle of the floor gracefully. "I played Coppelia once on stage."

Tim smiled, "Ballet, huh?"

"And jazz," Mariana said and began to move, without music.

Tim watched and for a moment, she forgot the reason why she was there, she forgot that this woman was a patient and she forgot Lisa was on her way. She watched as Mariana Dune's arms moved effortlessly, sweeping in motions, her feet following ever in time in her own choreography. Her feet, not en pointe, went for each step with ease, slipping into each position, never losing their way. Her eyes were closed as she moved, her body making the moves for her as she seemed unattached, letting the elements move her.

There was no doubt in Tim's mind, Mariana had talent.

And she had to have her.

First thing, of course, was to find out if this dancer was dying. Second, was to push curing her down Greg House's throat so she could have her. Tim wasn't planning anything specific yet except for her Christmas show and the coming one she had for the new year, but she would make one, for this undiscovered dancer.

She'd done it before, make someone a star, she could do it again, this time easier because clearly, Mariana was a talent wasting in the middle of New-freakin'-empty-Jersey.

The clicking of heels distracted Tim, making her turn her head to see Lisa on the top of the steps, watching the patient as she danced, behind her, appeared Thirteen and the short one whose name Tim couldn't remember for the moment.

"Tim—"

"Shhh!" she warned, her finger over her lips.

"Is she dancing?" Thirteen asked.

"No, she's eating," the short one muttered as they descended the steps.

Tim glared at them before turning to her dancer. "Hey, Mariana, look, my partner is here."

The dancer stopped, her eyes curiously watching the people descending the steps towards her. "I thought you only had one?"

Tim watched the two doctors, "Oh, they're my crew. They come in _cheap_."

The short one shot her a look while Thirteen smirked. Lisa stepped in beside her, "Care to explain what's going on here and why you're with House's patient?"

"I was walking, she just appeared," Tim said, shrugging. "Mariana, meet my partner, Lisa. She's a great musician, you'll hear her pieces soon when you—"

"Pieces?" Thirteen asked as the short one began to check over the patient who was staring at him curiously. "Dr. Cuddy is a _muscian_?"

Lisa shot Tim a look, murder clearly written in her eyes, but she didn't care. "Of sorts. You don't know? Your boss is quite talented when it comes to music."

"The only music she knows is in bed," came a hoarse voice and they all looked down to see House standing at the third floor landing. "She's a screamer."

"House."

"So true," Tim said, shaking her head with a grin.

"Tim!"

"Well, it is true," Tim shrugged. "You _are _a screamer."

"Both of you, shut up!" Lisa demanded and turned to the two fellows and the patient. "You two, better explain _later _why the patient isn't where she is supposed to be. Right now, I want her back in her room and stable."

"Patient? I'm not a patient. I'm here for my audition," Mariana asked, confused.

"She's delusional," the short one said. _What was his name again?_

"Dr. Taub, not helping," Lisa said, shaking her head as she took out her penlight.

There we go, Dr. Taub. Taub, Taub, Taub, Taub...

There was no way she was going to remember that.

"No, I mean, it's a symptom," Taub said. "Delusions. She's never had it before."

"She's pain free," House observed from his spot on the bottom of the steps. "Why?".

"Because she's hopped up on morphine," Thirteen said. "When we checked her room, her morphine intake records were through the roof, anymore she would have OD'ed."

"Well, that's comforting," Lisa mumbled. "Why wasn't there anyone with the patient?"

"We just stabilized and treated her, Kutner had to check on the labs and we had to report back to House," Taub informed.

"Well, I want one of you or a nurse with her at all times," Lisa said, ever the bitch boss now. "I do not want another incident like your lacrosse patient, House."

House feigned innocence. "I told you. That was a hooker I was meeting on the roof!"

Tim snorted. "Classy. Nothing like love expressed in dollar signs." She noticed his fellows trying to hide their snickers at her claim.

House glared at her. "Oh, hi, lesbo."

"House!" Lisa shrieked.

"Hello, tripod," Tim said, waving flirtatiously.

"Tim!" Lisa shrieked again. "You two, stop it, right now!"

"What?" Tim and House said at the same time in the same petulant voice.

Lisa groaned and turned to the two fellows. "Get her in her room, now."

Without a word, the three slinked away and Tim turned to House. "Is she dying?"

"Don't know yet," House shrugged. "Why?"

"I want her."

"Oh, _very _forward," he turned to Lisa. "You're not jealous she's declaring lust over some other _sick _woman?"

Lisa glared at House before turning to Tim. "What are you talking about?"

"She can dance, Lee," Tim said, motioning to the spot the patient previously covered. "You saw her and you _know _she's good. I have to have her."

"Wow, this is so much better than The L Word," House commented, leaning on his cane as he watched the two women.

"Whatever you want, Tim," Lisa said, waving her hands in front of her. "As long as you don't hold more impromptu auditions around here, I'm fine. Just make sure she's cure." She turned to House who was poking his tongue out at Tim. "And you, go work on your patient. Bad enough she got out, you had to dose her with morphine?"

"Don't blame me," House said, raising a hand. "Blame your idiot staff of nurses."

"You have a team, put one on standby," she said dismissively.

"I need them all for differentials," House said. "Or maybe I can dump Foreman there…"

"He's busy with the drug trials," Lisa said. "Just do it, House, I don't need a dead patient."

"Of course you don't, Oncology gives us enough of that to be believable," House said brightly.

"She's not gonna die, Lee," Tim said cheerfully. "I'm making her a star first _then _she can die. She can pull a Kurt Cobain on her own after I'm done with her."

Lisa stared at her. "You are not turning her into a rock star."

"Says who?" Tim scoffed. "I can put her in hooker heels—"

"Like Cuddy," House inserted from below.

"Those cute little sexy outfits—"

"Also in Cuddy's closet!"

"And put her out there," Tim waved her arms. "She's going to be bitching!"

"Cuddy's a bitch," House bellowed. "Why don't you turn her into a rock star?"

"House, shut up!" Lisa yelled before turning to Tim again. "You," she pointed a finger at her. "Behave—no more free auditions."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Lee, I'm bored. I need to un-bore myself before I start jonesing again for some smokes."

"You're quitting?" Lisa asked, amused. "Whatever happened to your Audrey Hepburn days?"

"Gone, darling," Tim sighed, dropping her arms over Lisa's shoulders. "Gone, gone, gone—ain't no sunshine when they're gone, but I gotta, gotta, gotta…It's either them or me." She batted her lashes. "I'm gorgeous and hotter so poof! Smokey's gone."

It was true, she was trying to quit smoking, after seeing the mess it could turn her into when she saw Glenda Reef-Ark, an old acquaintance a few weeks ago. Lisa wouldn't believe her, but Glenda, who was a known chain smoker, once beautiful was now a mess despite the effects she tried to hide surgery and make up.

Glenda Reef, married to the famous plastic surgeon Timothy Ark, had been one of the beautiful people of their school, but seeing her now, tragic and grotesquely deformed, Tim promised she was sticking to pills and booze now. Failed kidney was surely less unattractive than blackened teeth, gums and everything else.

The memory still left her shivering.

She was much too gorgeous to end up like that.

"Are you high?" House asked, watching her curiously.

"She isn't," Lisa sighed. "Though I wish she was. It would explain her insanity better."

"Lee-La!" Tim screeched. "You're being mean."

"And you are out of control again," Lisa chastised and grabbed her arm, dragging her down the stairs where House stood waiting. "Come on, we need breakfast, remember?"

"I don't eat, you know that," Tim said, frowning. "Besides, I'm not the one who got wasted—"

"Oh, Dr. Cuddy, you naughty girl," House said cheerily. "What did you do last night?" He smirked, "Or should I say—who?"

Tim laughed, tossing her head back as she clicked her way down the steps with Lisa, "Lee-La? _Who _would she _do_? That idiot grease monkey Doug—"

"Don," Lisa said, pinching her harshly on the arm.

"Ouch, bitch!" Tim cried before turning to House. "I should kiss you."

"Why?" House grinned stupidly.

"For chasing away that ballroom sissy," Tim said, shaking her head. "Honestly, _ballroom_. God, I would have shot her myself."

"He was a nice man," Lisa muttered as they both began to make their way to the elevators, House following close by, beside Lisa.

"Yeah, meaning loser," Tim said. "House is an ass, but he did a good thing crashing that disaster…stupid idea, really."

"Shut up, please?"

"At least someone agrees with me," House said, giving Tim the thumbs up while she blew him a kiss. "You were so out of his league, that was clear, obviously despite your hooker status. He was definitely lower than you. Thank God I got there before anything else could disappear under your dress."

"There was supposed to be a compliment somewhere there, right?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, the bra move," Tim said naughtily. "I taught her that."

"Sexy," House murmured.

"Shut up, both of you," Lisa snapped. "House, tend to you patient. Tim…" she trailed off. "Do whatever you do—just don't make me kill you."

"She is such a slave driver," House complained. "She likes doing this too much."

"Doing what?"

"Ordering people around, you love it."

"Do not."

"You do," Tim said, nodding.

"Do not."

"Do too," House nodded at Tim who smiled naughtily.

"Do not!"

"Do too," both of them chorused.

"Do not!"

"Do too."

"Shut up!"

"Point proven," Tim declared.

"That was not…That doesn't count!"

"Of course it does, sweetie," Tim cooed, kissing Lisa on the cheek. "But don't worry, it's cute."

"That was hot, do it again," House said, leaning on the wall as they waited for the elevators.

"Pervert," Lisa mumbled.

Tim smiled at House who smiled back at her, both of the writing all sorts of evil on their foreheads while Lisa waited, tapping her foot impatiently for the elevators. This was interesting, to her, watching as House watched her then Lisa with that look in his eyes.

She knew she'd said enough to bother him enough to pretend not to be bothered. She wasn't going to claim she _knew _what Greg House was, but she'd studied him enough through Lisa's stories through the years.

It had been twenty-something years ago when Lisa first mentioned the great ass that was Greg House and despite the ranting and the exasperated sighs, even then Tim knew Lisa was feeling certain levels of lust and attraction towards the rogue. Of course, the stories had been hilarious at first, but not when it was nearing the end.

What started out a great story between a lowly undergrad and a legend had ended with heartbreak, sex, tears, a lot of screaming and a goodbye of sorts. It would have made an incredible piece for Tim, the facts almost unbelievable even in the world of actors and the stage, but so true since she'd listened to Lisa through the years and stood witness for the most part of everything that happened.

It was an incredible story, for two—_sort of_—normal people.

Meeting Greg House now, Tim could see why even after twenty-something years, Lisa was still interested, despite her pathetic attempts at denying she _was _interested still and _is _totally still lusting over the tripod.

Tim didn't have to wonder why Lisa wanted to be around the caustic ass, she knew. Lisa already said, in so many words, that Greg House was human, perfectly capable of being one, despite their colorful and bittersweet history.

_There was more to the ass than meets the eye._

Lisa just saw Greg House differently.

And Tim was more than interested in uncovering the ass, who knows? Maybe he was better than the grease monkey and Nathan Winslow.

If he'd let her, she wanted to see that side of him that Lisa could see so well.

_Yeah, right..._

-o0o-

Who's interested in Butter? And what do you think Elliot's going to say? Is Nathan really ready to jump ship and throw himself onto Elise's mercy?

And what do you think of Tim and House? She's willing to get down and dirty and oh, they seem to be agreeing more and more, huh?

Well, you see now how the tables keep turning? Maybe I should get rid of the tables, these people can rock our world all we want, right? Anyway, tell me what you think. I know this chapter was long again—sorry for those who don't like long chapters—but don't worry, the next one will give you more changes because I've decided to take the story into a different direction. Not really big changes, but you know. You'll sure be happy to hear, the story will progress faster starting next chapter…I'll try to make it work, promise!

cloybellsouth,net Oh! Belated happy birthday! So happy I got to do something good for you! I hope you had a great birthday! And how's the account going? PM me, okay? I've been searching for you. And about the Nate-kiss? Oh, shh…on me. Hee, we'll see soon enough, won't we? But of course, stories aside, I'd so prefer Cuddy kissing ONLY HOUSE forever.

Kakashifangrl1012 Skipping real life for fics, I so know what you mean! I'm bad, bad, bad for tearing you away from homework! LOL and I totally get how you're torn between Nelise (writing Nate and Elise is a bit long) getting along and not. I am too, honestly and I swear, you're going to be surprised, I know I was. Well, with the way my crazy mind is mapping this fic out anyway. My head's come up with interesting twists, I can't even figure out where some of them came from! And about Tim holding back when talking to Lisa? It's more her being all-bitch on House because she sort of knows House while she cares deeply for Lisa enough that she does try not to hurt her as much as possible. You'll learn more about her history and why Lisa is important to her. Keep reading, aight? I heart you guys!

Muahaha999 I so can relate with the lurking thing. I'm trying to stop myself from doing that. It takes a lot to make me appear in the radar and, you know, review and stuff, but really I'm so happy you de-lurked for me! I'm flattered (_does saying that make me sound…arrogant or something? Sorry!_) I hope you'll keep reading and reviewing! Glad to hear from lots of readers!

DoctorLisaCuddy You made me blush and trust me, that is hard to do. I didn't even do that in high school with boys! I am so happy you like long chapters…seems like I can't help myself now. I keep writing and writing, it's insane!

Yoleah Whew! You have no idea how happy I was to read your comment that the team was in character. That really bothers me…heeh, and thank you so much for your reviews! Ya'll are so nice to me, ya'll makin' me blush! –and you are so right about House not making a move until late when it comes to Cuddy. Boo on him! _Though it can make awesome drama and it's kind of cute sometimes…_

Huddy28 thank you for not hating my stupid obsession with details!

STarSHipper sorry I can't help myself! I can't seem to stop typing…and the details, sorry about that too. I know it's too detailed, but I can't help it—it bothers me, missing things here and there. I'm sorry it got boring for you, I'll try to make it better, don't worry. Thank you for reviewing!

And everyone who was sweet, sweet about my grandfather, thank you so much! He's going awesome now and just today, we went out to lunch with my grandma, parents and sister. He's doing perfectly—he's even allowed to use his pipe again! He loves his pipes.

LONG replies again, I know! Anyway, don't hate me and please, review.

xoxOphelia

_And So it Goes_ by _Billy Joel  
(i do like his songs)_


	16. Chapter 15: Come Home

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Something so random, but almost related: Thanks to a beautiful soul, don't know who, he/she uploaded the entire episode of Without a Trace where Lisa Edelstein was the guest. I'd seen some clips over at youtube, but never really got to find the whole until the other week. Totally awesome—I loved it! Never was a fan of that show because if it's about crime dramas, I'd always go for CSI, but that episode was great. Lisa was great there and I found it ironic, how the storyline seemed to match with Cuddy's (except for the love child and the disappearing thing). Anyway, I just loved it! So awesome… Now ask why I'm babbling about this other than because Lisa's there…go ahead, ask…Ha, I'm telling you anyway: Maybe you all already know but I didn't so I'm comin' out with it: _I found it totally cool Nurse Brenda Priven (yes, I totally messed up with confusing the placement of e and i on her last name, yikes!) was there on the same episode as Lisa! I'm such a dork, I found that cool!_

I was going to mention this last chap, but totally missed on my hurry to update. Sorry. And oh, just in case anyone cares—in scenes with Elise/young Lisa, it'll probably help if you guys imagine that girl who played Lisa E's character's real daughter, the one who appeared later in the episode of Without a Trace as her on my story. The girl looked like Lisa a lot, right? So yeah, that's how she should look on _my _flashbacks. Did that help? Anyone cares? Bah, maybe. Anyhoo, let's get this going. We've got a pip-pip-lot to get on with,_ tallyho! _Don't mind that stupid line, I'm feeling silly.

Warning: I was freaking pissed off when someone answered and told me House was delayed because of **24. **Freakin' kidding me, right? Seriously? I don't like that show! Ugh. (sorry to any 24 fans who're reading this) Why the halibut would they do that?!

Note: I think the song I used in this chapter fits with Nelise, check it out. I'm a big fan of One Republic. Their songs are great! As for Huddy—gawd, don't ask me to enumerate the songs I've heard through the years that would fit them! So many…

Chapter Fifteen: Come Home

Standing next to Tim in the elevator, Cuddy tried not to go on a full rant about her already messy day, seeing it was only morning. Everything was piling on her with Nathan in her office, Tim prancing around the hospital and being buddies with House, a loose patient twirling around in the stairs, House _being_ House, and most of all she could not, for the life of her, understand how Tim and House could get along.

She was sure they would have started killing each other five minutes after being alone together.

Having them bond together and actually get in sync on their similar quest to trying to lose her mind completely was a little more than shocking to her already frayed system. It was bad enough spending half her life dealing with Tim then the other half, dealing with House and to have them together was simply a…death imminent.

Briefly, she wondered what she'd done to make God feel the need to punish her so lately.

_What the hell did I do now? Do _You _hate me that much, huh?_

Backtracking, maybe saying _hell _probably affected her too. The Great One does have reasons known only to Him, after all.

_Oops, takesies backsies. Rephrase: what did I do now to make You hate me? _Better?

"So," Tim began and Cuddy suppressed the urge to groan. Nothing good ever came with that tone. "How much does House know about your losing your virginity?"

Eyes wide, Cuddy turned to Tim, her finger immediately jabbing at the Emergency Stop button of the elevator. "What the hell are you doing talking about _my _sex life with House?"

Tim chuckled, leaning against the wall as the irritating alarm bells of the elevator began. "No, no, honey, the question is: what the hell are _you_ doing talking about _your _sex life with House?" She smirked, "Or should I say passed-sex life? No, that sounds wrong. Does dead sound better? Dead-sex-life—no. Expired-sex-life—no. Or temporarily paused-sex—"

"Tim, shut up," Cuddy said, glaring, jabbing the button to stop the irritating alarms that resounded over and over, thumping into her already spinning head.

Tim laughed. "Come on, Lee, you need to get laid, even you should admit that."

"My sex life is none of your business," Cuddy dismissed. She knew she should be used to it by now since Tim had always been meddlesome when it came to her sex life. "And the same goes for House. Now, why were you talking about that?"

"About your deflowering?" Tim smirked and Cuddy knew she was loving every minute of this. "We were having a pissing contest of sorts—without the obvious pissing."

"Elaborate."

"We played _who-knows-lady-bitch-boss-better_ and he rattled on what he knew about you," she said, shrugging noncommittally as she examined her fingernails. "Mentioned your favorite color, your fake mother's name, non-existent sister—"

"Tim."

"Why did you lie to him about your mother's name?"

Cuddy glared at her. "You _know _why. If he knew, one click, one trip to New York or one call to Lucas then he would have known something was wrong. I've told you how obsessive he can be about figuring out things…"

"And when he finds out you _don't _have a mother named _Ileana Cuddy_, then what, Lee?"

Cuddy winced. "I…I've thought about that, but I don't know yet."

"What about the sister?" Tim asked, and Cuddy looked away. "Lisa?"

"You know you're my sister practically," Cuddy said softly. "And I couldn't just risk telling him I have a brother. He would have gone out and looked and looked… you know. If I wrote off I have a sister, he'd assume you just got married or something."

"Oh, what tangled web we weave," Tim said in almost a whisper. "Lisa, sooner or later, someone's going to find out the truth."

"I know that," she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear irritably. "Don't you think I haven't thought of that every single day since I left?"

"Of course you have," Tim said, nodding. "But thinking about it and actually coming up with something concrete and good are two _different _things." She sighed. "What are you going to do when House finds out? Or that James guy or, hell, anyone in this hospital? What then?"

"Then I'll tell the truth," she said though she hoped to God she didn't have to. The truth was, she _never _intended for anyone to know. She wasn't ashamed, she had nothing to be ashamed of, but at the same time she knew she couldn't have anyone finding out about her background.

Cuddy could only imagine the reactions of everyone, especially the board, once they found out she wasn't totally honest about who she was. Through the years she'd spent going through medical school and being a doctor, she would be lying to herself if she claimed she hasn't submerged herself into her second life enough _not _to actually believe she was who she was. To her, in her heart, she was Lisa Cuddy. Elise was long gone and that made the entire point of not revealing pointless details about her seem acceptable to herself.

She wasn't even going to try and imagine how House and Wilson were going to react. She _couldn't _even if she tried.

"Oh yeah, that sounds about good," Tim said with an acidic drip of sarcasm. "You'll just go in and say, '_Oh, yeah, by the way, I've been faking my name for the past twenty-years, I'm really the daughter of that guy you see on TV all the time? Damien Foxworth, yeah, him and he's my asshole moron idiot stupid father. Anyway, that's all. Have a great day!' _Come on, Lisa, are you even thinking?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it like _that_," Cuddy said, a little annoyed now. "A little help would do me good, you know? Less bitching too, if that's possible…"

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Tim asked, her eyes flashing. "I have been trying to help you all the way, Lee, but you won't listen. Just…" she shook her head. "Just tell someone the truth. That's one way to start."

"Who?" Cuddy wondered aloud.

"Oh, I don't know," Tim pretended to think. "Maybe _your _bosses? You know, those old hags and dirty old men who sit around in one table, piling on the crap they make you do everyday?"

Cuddy chuckled. "I do not have dirty old men for bosses. I have hags, yes, but, Jane Radcliff and Lyn Darcy are…" she tried to find a polite way to put it. "Old."

"And pissed off that they're dried up and ugly," Tim cackled. "Oh and that leering Somers old doctor you were telling me about wasn't dirty?" Tim asked, laughing. "How old did you say he was? Sixty? I think he qualified for Dirty Old Men Association a decade ago."

"Shut up," Cuddy said, wincing. As if she could forget Alan Somers, one of the oldest members of the board who refused to let go. He was a quiet old man who usually spoke only when he absolutely needed to and though his leery ways sometimes came in handy to help Cuddy through a meeting on a voting basis or when she needed someone to agree, it sometimes bothered her how he would stare at her during the longer meetings.

Usually, she made it a point to wear her business suit to cover the House-titled 'funbags' just to get Dr. Alan Somers to stop focusing on her.

"Whatever, dried up old pervs and bitches, it doesn't matter," Tim said. "You have to tell them before…"

Cuddy stared at her as she trailed off. "Before what?"

She watched, curious as Tim shook her head, eyes closed. "Before something happens with Elliot. You know if anything happens, you'd need to go, to be with him. Then the old ding bats will want to know why their fearless little petunia is running off to Big Bad New York City for."

She could always count on Tim to drag her back to reality just as she could count on her to take her away from what used to be her old realities all those years ago.

Cuddy bit her bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling as her mind conjured up images of Elliot looking weak, exhausted and dying. It tore her apart instantly.

"Don't think," Tim said, soothingly from her corner.

"That's not possible," Cuddy said, turning away so her back was facing Tim as she faced the closed doors in front of her. "I think about Elliot and sometimes…dad."

"Why are you thinking about your father?" Tim asked and Cuddy was positive she was channeling their therapist again. This was something they usually did for each other over the phone. It always helped them make sense of things and messes.

"Because…" Cuddy said, quietly, closing her eyes as images of her father, dressed handsomely in a suit and his coat speckled with snow emerged from her memories. She could still remember his smile. "Because he's there, with Ellie…he's the one taking care of Ellie, I'm…sure."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "Dad would take care of Ellie. He loves Ellie."

"Do you think he loves you?"

Cuddy felt her throat close. "I…"

"Lisa."

"He loved me," she said hoarsely. "But that was a long time ago. He used to love me."

"Why do you think he doesn't love you anymore?"

"Because he…" she felt her face contort in anger, clenching her fists at her sides. "Because he chose his wife over me and my mother…"

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes," she didn't doubt it.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't feel anymore, not for him," she said, though they both knew it was a lie they didn't need to talk about it. "Not really."

"How about her, how do you feel about his wife?"

"I still hate her," she said honestly. "I don't hate, I shouldn't, but I do…hate her."

"What do you think you should do now?"

"I-I need to go," she said, closing her eyes again and seeing Elliot's smiling face. "Ellie needs me. I need to go see Ellie."

"Do you think that's the right decision?"

Cuddy paused, remembering her father, her stepmother and her brother, the house she'd grown up in and the people in it. Her mother's bedroom, her portrait, the rooms, her old bedroom, Elliot's bedroom, her father's study, her mother's sunroom, the balcony and the music that once filled the halls and rooms from hours on end.

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of her past home then the coldness that took over after the music died around the halls and rooms and silence fell coldly, darkening the walls and taking over like a sad gloom. "Yes."

"_Tim, hurry up!" Elise screamed as she sped down the halls, black shiny Mary Janes thumping lightly on the carpets as she breezed through._

"_I'm coming, I'm coming!" Tim said, walking after, her baby blue dress fluttering around her legs. Her sandy-blonde colored hair flying softly with her, the small braids placed strategically in a series of intervals bounced lightly as she moved._

_By the time the fourteen-year-old reached the foyer just as the brown haired twelve-year-old was being prepped the last time by a helpful maid. "Geez, Lee-la, shake off those ants from your ass."_

"_Hey!" Elise cried as Juliet, the maid, helped retouch her long hair that had been especially styled straight from the top then curling at the bottom down to the middle of her back beautifully by Chin, a young maid of the Theodoratus' home who loved doing their hair for them. Her hair was done in a half-do with a yellow ribbon that matched her dress. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a bad word, Timmy."_

_Juliet chuckled as Tim approached. "Yes, Miss Artemis, it's a bad word. You shouldn't say that. It's unbecoming of such a pretty young lady like you." She shook her head. "And you are not setting a good example for Miss Lily."_

"_See? Told you," Elise gloated happily as she did a pirouette by the doors, waiting. "Come on, come on, come _on_!"_

"_She needs to learn a few," Tim said, poking a tongue out at the girl who continued to do another pirouette, loving how it made the hem of her dress flutter around her legs. "She's too damned perky for her own good."_

_Elise gasped. "That's a _very _bad word!"_

"_Yeah, yeah," Tim said, shaking her head at Juliet who was about to correct her again. "Come on, pip squeak, before you pee on yourself."_

"_I do not pee on myself!" Elise cried, her cheeks turning red in embarrassment. "And I am not a pip squeak! I'm thirteen," she huffed, crossing her arms over her still quite flat chest. "You're being mean to me, Timmy."_

_Tim grinned, "You know I'm just playing with you."_

"_You're not playing very nice," Elise frowned, the earlier euphoria and excitement gone._

"_Okay," Tim sighed. "I'm sorry. Come on, let's go. We'll be late."_

_The frown immediately disappeared, replaced by the bright eyes, the giddy smile and the bouncing of her little body. "Okay, okay, okay."_

"_And you are _not_ thirteen," Tim mumbled under her breath but the young girl ignored her as she headed out happily. It was getting warm already as Spring had began to enter into March, keeping the city away from the chill that once enveloped it, making way for the summer that was quickly approaching._

_Juliet waved goodbye, telling them to have fun and they too bid her well as Elise hopped down the steps to the waiting hands of the chauffer, Samuel Tucker, who was smiling as they approached. "Well, here are the two most beautiful girls of New York."_

_Elise beamed while Tim shook her head, "You spoil her too much, Sam."_

"_Jealous," Elise sing-songed as she slid into the small car, careful not to ruffle her pretty dress. "Thank you, Sammy. You look very nice too."_

"_Thank you, Miss Elise," Sam chuckled, "Good to see you, Miss Artemis. We'll take the shortcuts today. It'll get us there quicker, I heard there was an accident not too far from our usual route."_

_Tim smiled, "Sounds good. The sooner we get her to her mother, the better she'll be."_

_She eased herself into the car, sitting next to the chatting girl, truly excited to see her mother who had been away for a month, visiting Paris as her children and husband stayed. It was no secret Elise missed her mother as she stayed with Tim while Elliot stayed with his father, sometimes with Nathan whose parents were always happy to have their son over at the Foxworth Home._

_Tim couldn't blame the girl for being excited, as she'd always been close to her mother. The same could not be said of Tim though, who stayed mostly in her home in New York while her parents trekked around the world, her father for business and her mother for fun. She wasn't always allowed to go with them and for now, three months away from Summer Vacation, her parents made her stay as they headed to Europe, promising she would soon follow._

_Tim didn't hold her hopes up too much, knowing sometimes they forgot since, after all, promises were made to be broken._

_After a month with Elise as the guest, Tim's bags were packed next to hers and they were headed to the Foxworth's where a dinner awaited them to welcome Elisabeth home where this time, Tim would be the guest to stay. It was normal, for the Foxworth and Theodoratus daughters to be at each other's homes, having been raised like sisters just as the Foxworth and Winslow sons who were raised like brothers._

_The absence of Tim's parents were all right with her, knowing she had a mother in Elisabeth Foxworth too who was more than willing to take her in. Days spent with Elise, her mother and sometimes with Elliot and sometimes Nathan, were always fun. Damien Foxworth, though he was always busy, managed to come home for dinner most nights and he too played father to her as he did to his kids, ready always with stories and presents._

_Tonight was going to be a dinner with the family. They were sure Elliot was always there, waiting for them while Damien was out picking up his wife from the airport. Nathan, they knew, wasn't going to be able to come that night since he and his parents were in Ridgefield, Connecticut, visiting with his grandparents._

"_Do you think mommy will have presents?" Elise asked, watching the streets they passed by as she sat contented in her seat._

"_I'm sure she will," Tim said, feeling the pin pricks of Elise's happiness too because she too missed Elisabeth. "She always has something, doesn't she?"_

"_Yeah," Elise said, smiling widely. "I'm glad you're staying with us, Timmy."_

"_Don't I always?" Tim asked, grinning._

"_Yeah," she said, leaning towards her and hugging her tight. "I love you, sissy."_

_Tim smiled, hugging her back. "Love you too, Lee-la."_

Cuddy felt her heart constrict, blocking out the rest of the memory, knowing that she would be reliving one of the most horrible moments in her life, knowing she was going to feel her world shatter into tiny million, irreparable pieces all over again.

Time heals all wounds…

…was a total lie, for her wounds opened easily and bled freely, even after all these years, every time she was reminded of that day.

"She never came home," was all she could say brokenly though she was thankful the tears didn't flow. She'd done enough crying and there was no way she could cry in an elevator of her own hospital, of all places.

Two slender but strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "I know."

"She…she was supposed to come home."

"I know," Tim whispered. "I'm sorry, Elise."

Cuddy nodded. "I need to come home."

She felt Tim's hold around her tighten and a strangled voice came out, "Okay."

-o0o-

"Delusions," House wrote in bold strokes as his team watched from their seats. "Diagnosis?"

"It's Vasculitis," Taub said. "ALL is definitely out."

"But what about the delusions?" House asked, tapping the word on the board loudly. "Why did our little dancer give our new potential donor a private show?"

"It could be something else," Thirteen said. "The delusions might be altogether different. It's Vasculitis, House."

"Then start her on Prednisone," House said dismissively. "If you're right then she should be better enough to get out and shake her booty, if you're wrong and she dies—Cuddy will bitch out on me and I _will _kill you."

The two moved to head back to the patients when Kutner suddenly appeared at the door, skidding into a halt. "It's not Vasculitis."

House rolled his eyes, "Oh, here we go again. It's not ALL, it's out."

"It's not ALL, I know," Kutner said, breathing in and out, sweat dripping from his temple. "We've got three more symptoms."

"I thought you were in the labs," Taun wondered, his eyebrows up in question.

"I dropped by the check in, I was interested after you sent me a text about the dancing," Kutner said, slipping into the office to stand in front of House. "The patient's blood pressure is through the roof, she's got a rapid heart rate and she's got tremors. Plus, her fever's spiking up again."

"It could still be Vasculitis," Thirteen said. "It still fits."

"It does, but not in this sense, the order is wrong plus, delusions aren't caused by Vasculitis," Kutner said. "And not everything fits."

"How long has she been on the Methotrexate?" House asked.

"Right after we confirmed she didn't have ALL," Kutner answered.

"It's possible we've cured her of Vasculitis," House said, more to himself than to his team as his own mind began to work on overdrive. "So we didn't need the Prednisone, duh." He got up to the board and started crossing out symptoms then wrote the four Kutner mentioned.

_High BP_

_Rapid heart rate_

_Tremors_

_Fever_

"What, you think she's got another disease?" Taub asked, ever the skeptic.

"Why, yes, Yoda," House said, glancing at the plastic surgeon. "The young Indian Padawan brought forth some interesting toys to play with." He erased _Fibromyalgia _and _ALL _from the board completely then wrote a line through _Vasculitis_, crossing it out. "Diagnosis anyone?"

"She was also sweating," Kutner said, motioning at the board.

House rolled his eyes and wrote it on the board, "Anything else, _doctor_?"

Kutner paused. "No."

"Could be Cholecystitis," Thirteen offered. "Gallstones."

House nodded, "Then check her gallbladder."

"It could be Anemia," Taub said, staring at the board.

"We put her on Vitamin C before, she shouldn't have Anemia," Thirteen refuted.

"We cured her of Vasculitis," Taub said. "And the Vitamin C was at least twelve hours ago. She might need it_ now_."

"It doesn't explain the tremors and the sweating," Kutner said.

House looked around. "Where the hell is Foreman?"

"Again," Thirteen said, rolling her eyes. "Drug Trials, Huntington's, ring a bell?"

"Yeah, but what are _you _doing here?" House asked. "Shouldn't you be in the land of false hope with him by now, Foreteen?"

"No," Thirteen said slowly, though she was obviously getting irritated. "My schedule isn't for another three hours."

"How's the treatment going?" House asked, curious as he watched her. He couldn't deny that lately she's been less surly an irritable and more smiley around Foreman.

Placebo effects were interesting.

"It's going fine, thank you for asking," Thirteen said dryly. "Now can we get back to the patient?"

"Start her on Vitamin C and check her gallbladder," House said. "Confirm the diagnosis and have a drink or get screwed. Just do it."

Kutner looked at Taub and Thirteen and they headed out, three of them trailing away. House sat back, twirling his cane in one finger before getting up and heading back to his office. He didn't have any soaps on and Cuddy didn't seem all interested in chasing him for his Clinic Hours.

Not that he was interested in wiping runny noses for bratty five-year-old monsters and staring at crotch rot—something that should have turned him off to sex for life, but thankfully no, although his paranoia with his hookers urged him to _make _himself wear condoms all the time, sometimes double. It just made his days more interesting when Cuddy was around to bitch and yell about him not paying the hours he owed her.

House eased himself back into his Eames chair, his mind drifting again as it had too many times now since yesterday. Where the hell was Wilson? He had nothing to do, he needed to bother someone, something since his own case wasn't riveting enough to _make _him sit up and take notice. Throughout the diagnosis, he knew he hadn't been as attentive as he usually should be. Not that he ever really did anything he _should _but cases were different, those were his thing, something that kept him going.

He blamed it on the boring patient, Maria-something, the dancer. She wasn't interesting enough. His team, his little boys and half-girl-half boy could do it themselves, even with the black one missing.

Reluctantly, he sat back, leaning his cane next to him and tried to diagnose, if not, to think about something that didn't involve something totally useless. Then again, he did have porn, but even that didn't sway him. He wasn't up to getting hard this early in the morning. Where the hell was Wilson? He needed something to focus on or else…

Too late—too _damned _late!

His mind was already drifting to Lisa Cuddy and that crazy bitch friend of hers.

But mostly, he thought about Lisa Cuddy.

_Shit._

And the memories were coming.

Briefly, he thought about crashing his motorcycle against something, in hopes of forgetting those memories, if possible, her as well, but then he worked _for _her. Forgetting your boss isn't part of _Good Office Politics Manual version two-point-oh_, right?

Shit.

"_Fetus."_

_She looked up, a perfectly groomed eyebrow arched up then as she spotted him, a smirk claimed her luscious red lips. "Say what?"_

"_Little seventeen-year-old girl in a big campus, far, far away from home," he glided side to side. "But Fetus sounds much better to me so…Fetus."_

"_Oh, okay then," she said, nodding. "Ass."_

_He chuckled, "You made a funny."_

_She shook her head and resumed reading, ever the study-bug that she was to her professors._

"_So do you hang out here just to look smart or do you have your boyfriend hiding in some stacks so you can play hide the sausage because it's oh-so-exciting?" he asked, pulling up a chair and plopping himself in without asking, sitting right across from her._

"_First off," she said, smirking as she tore her eyes from the book in front of her. "I don't have to hang out in the library to look smart. That would be stupid. And second," she smiled coyly. "I don't have a boyfriend. I don't like to be tied down'."_

"_Ah, the regular tramp, eh?" he smiled charmingly, as if it would lessen the blow. Any second, he anticipated the huge Anatomy book in front of her to be hurled at his face. "Or do you prefer the label whore?"_

"_Yeah, I think tramp works," she said, nodding. "Whatever turns you on? I kind of like being free. Call it what you want, but I _don't _fuck around." She shrugged one shoulder. "Too bad I can't say the same of you."_

"_Yeah, too bad," he grinned. "I'd totally do you, you know."_

"_Too bad I won't," she said with a slight chuckle. "What do you want, Greg House?"_

"_Well, Lisa Cuddy, I'm bored," he said, his shoulders suddenly sagging._

"_And so you decided to go to the most quiet part of the campus?" she asked, curious and skeptical, the eyebrow arched again._

"_This place needs some rocking, thought I'd help," he said nonchalantly. "What about you? What are you doing here? Last I saw you, you had one loser up your gorgeous ass."_

_She shook her head. "Oh, Greg, green is not a good look on you."_

_He looked down on his shirt, it was blue, and then he looked up at her. "Oh, you and your colors."_

_She smothered a laugh into the old book before looking up at him with bright eyes, sparkling from some unnamed, unintentional joy he had provided._

_In the back of his mind, he decided he liked that spark in her eyes._

"_What?" he asked, frowning a little. He never liked anyone laughing at him._

"_I meant green as in jealous," she said, giggling lightly so as not to be shushed by the other five stuck up nerds in the room. She certainly knew how to stand out._

"_Ah," he said, nodding. "Clever, but you're mistaken. I don't get jealous."_

"_Of course not," she said patronizingly._

"_Like I have anything to be jealous about," he scoffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Like he'd ever be caught dead begging or trailing after an undergrad, no matter how hot she was or how great her breasts and butt were._

_She smiled, coy again. "Beau came by my apartment…"_

"_Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Nice guy, coming to your place 'cause he forgot to pay when you left. How much do you go for, anyway?"_

_The smile didn't leave her face, which bothered him. By now his nuts should have been crushed by her shoe or knee. She was immovable, un-annoy-able and unshakable. What the hell was wrong with her?_

_And wasn't it just three nights ago she bruised him for saying she looked fuck-able, which was true really and was really a compliment. And damn, that kick hurt which only enforced his belief that lying was much, much better than telling the truth—less pain._

"_You couldn't afford me," she said empathetically. "Nice try though."_

_He stared at her, his witty retort gone into the winds on the otherwise sealed library. She stared back for a moment before shaking her head slightly then bending it to go back to the old book in front of her._

_He cocked his head to the side, "Do you have a twin sister?"_

_Slowly, her head rose, her eyes confused now. "What?"_

"_Last time, I said you looked fuck-able, you kicked me on the shin and gave me a bitching bruise," he said, pretending to glare at her for a moment. "Now, I call you a tramp, whore and a call girl, you don't do a thi—Damnit!"_

_His body folded like a card, curling as he tried to reach his shin under the table. The five nerds from different tables and the librarians looked up, glaring and shushed him sharply._

"_Fuck," he growled under his breath, clutching his freshly healed shin. He looked up, glaring now as she smiled cheerfully at him, chin cradled in one hand while another twirled a pen._

"_You're welcome," she said simply before burying her head in the book again, soft yet at the same time wild curls bouncing lightly on her shoulder._

"_What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, wiping the sweat that oozed from his temple. He was sure she fractured something with that kick; it was harder than the last one._

_She shrugged, not looking up. "You asked."_

"_I _didn't_," he hissed. "I was just asking—"_

"_See?" she said, bobbing her head slightly. "You asked."_

"_I wasn't asking _that_," he growled. "You little wench—ow! Damn it!"_

_He bent again and under the table, he grabbed his other shin. He barely heard the shushing from the other people around the almost empty library._

"_Would you stop that?" he growled, louder than he intended and this time._

_She didn't look up or react and a second later, someone was tapping his shoulder. "What?" he growled and looked up to see the pointy-nosed spinster librarian glaring at him._

"_You need to leave, _Mister Gregory House_," she enunciated each word and his name with acid. He'd had a few unpleasant run ins with her in the past, it was no surprise she wasn't hesitating to toss his ass out even on a Tuesday night._

"_I was just…" he said, motioning to the girl in front of him who was still buried in her book. "Lisa."_

_She didn't look up and the only slight moving of her head as she read and wrote down notes in her paper were the only detectable movements._

"_She's very focused on her work," he said, trying to charm his way into the old broad's graces. "I'm…studying with her."_

"_I think not," the batty old woman said. "As you said before, Mr. Gregory House, you do _not _need my building." She crossed her arms over her flat chest. "Now, please, get out. I have students studying here."_

"_It's not even your building," he said without thinking._

"_Out!" she hissed, pointing to the massive exits._

_He sighed, looking at Lisa and only then did he detect one delicate hand pressing against her face and right then he knew. She set him up._

"_Well, since you asked so nicely," he said sarcastically, pushing his chair back loudly, the scraping sound of the chair against the marble floors echoing in the cavernous wing. "Me and my friend will be going then."_

_Easily, he swiped the pen and paper in her hands and she looked up, "Hey!"_

"_Silence, miss!" the librarian hissed at Lisa. "Leave, now."_

"_What?" Lisa gasped, "I didn't do anything!"_

"_Excuses," the woman spat. "Out, out."_

_The other nerds shushed her and she glared at the two in front of her. "Out, now."_

_Grabbing her small bag, Lisa pushed past Greg who was smirking triumphantly at the librarian. "Nice chatting with you, good night!"_

_With that, he skipped off after a fuming Lisa, bumping into chairs loudly, crashing them against tables as he did so. "Hey, Cuddles!" he said as loudly and as obnoxiously as he could. "Wait up!"_

"_Gregory House!"_

_He ignored her and headed for the exits, following Lisa. "Ciao, nerds and spinster, I leave you to mourn your dry spell!" he called over his shoulder as he threw the doors open loudly, banging them against the wall._

_He knew then he'd have to be careful around the library from now on. This stunt was sure to cost one of those nine foot-tall shelves being pushed over him._

_Greg caught Lisa at the steps as she hurried away. "Hey, Lisa!"_

"_Get the hell away from me," she said over her shoulder. "You asshole!"_

"_Oh, come on!" he said, "You started it!"_

"_I wanted you away from me!" she screamed, not caring about the very few students that were staring at him as they passed. "Go away Greg House!"_

_With his long legs, bigger strides and faster pace, he caught up with her at the bottom easily, grabbing her arm. "Cuddles!"_

_She slapped his hand away and grabbed the pen and paper from his hand, "Get the fuck away from me!"_

"_Hey, what's got you PMS-ing?" he asked, rushing after her. "Come on, Lisa."_

_She turned suddenly, facing him, anger in a shade of red on her cheeks, her eyes a shade of storm blue that made him stare. "You wanna know what's up with me?"_

"_Yeah," he said, stopping, his eyes still on hers._

_He'd never seen eyes as striking as hers._

"_I was working on my paper for Claude due tomorrow, you stubborn _moron_!" she flared. "You stupid moron, you jackass, you _idiot_! You cretin! Do you have any idea how hard missing his assigned papers pull on grades? The asshole thrives on those papers! I don't pass one, I miss a lot, you stupid idiot!"_

"_What, so you don't get the perfect score—"_

"_We're not all geniuses like you, House!" she steamed, poking him in the chest harshly. "I _have _to pass that paper and now that you got me kicked out of the library, I won't be able to finish it because you are an ass!"_

"_Hey, calm down," he said. He'd never seen anyone lose it over a paper like this._

_A brief warning flashed in his head that she might be literally psychotic._

"_Calm down? Calm down?" she asked, slapping his shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"_

"_Lisa," he said, pushing to grab on to her shoulders. "You're doing a paper on Anatomy—that's easy shit."_

"_Shut up!" she hissed. "You might not care, but I need that A."_

"_It's not like you're anywhere close to failing," he said. "Or being average."_

"_That's not the point!" she hissed viciously._

_He stopped, holding on to her shoulders still. "I'll make you a deal."_

_Maybe it was curiosity or her temper tantrum ending or something he didn't know, but she responded with a calm and controlled "What?"_

"_I help you with this paper, I get you nothing less than an A," he said, grinning slowly. "You go out with me for an entire weekend."_

_She paused, "One day?"_

"_No," he said, shaking his head. "One weekend, Friday sundown to Sunday sundown—you and me, alone in my terms and we do things _I _decide to do."_

_He would know then how much she needed the grade._

_She bit her bottom lip, reconsidering, thinking, weighing the pros and cons. It was as if he could actually see her mind turning, working._

_Just how much she _wanted _this grade, he wanted to know. It was interesting, to him._

"_I am _not _having sex with you," she said after a moment, gritting her perfect teeth at him._

_He smirked, "Of course not."_

"_No drugs," she stipulated. "Or anything illegal."_

_He smirked, "You're drinking at seventeen—that's illegal, fetus. Don't you know the age consent for drinking here?"_

_She shrugged his hands away and slapped him on the forehead unexpectedly. "You know what I mean, you moron."_

"_Hey!" he said, touching his forehead. "You gotta stop that, really. I've never hit a girl, but I'm no stranger to getting even."_

"_Oh, yeah?" she asked, the corner of her lips curling up._

"_Yeah, watch," and in a flash, his fingers flicked her ear._

"_Ow! Hey!" she cried, holding her ear._

"_See?" he said, looking victorious. _

"_You're such a jerk," she said sourly, still holding on to her ear._

"_So, what do you say, Lisa Cuddy?"_

"_You're a jerk," she said, glancing at the paper in her hand. "Fine, get me my grade and I'll go out with you…"_

"_One weekend," he clarified. He was not going to be jerked around for this._

"_One weekend for nothing less than an A," she said, nodding. "But if you cross the line, the deal's off and I am kicking your ass."_

_He smiled, "Agreed." He held out his hand, "Shake on it?"_

_Reluctantly, her hand let go of her ear and she shook his hand firmly. He then wasted no time pulling her to him, her face inches from his, close enough to feel the breath rush from her lips as she gasped inaudibly, looking up at him due to the height difference._

_He smirked, "You're gonna fall in love with me."_

_She scowled and pulled her hand back but didn't move her face away from his, "No," she said, her breath mingling with his. "_You _are _going_ to fall in love with _me_, Greg House."_

"_Really?" he asked. He loved the way she obviously thrived on challenges._

"_Yeah," she said, her bottom lip forming into a sexy yet innocent looking pout. "And you're gonna love me for a long, long time."_

_He smiled widely, "Then let's get you that A then, huh, Fetus?"_

_She scowled, pulling back then proceeded to swat his forehead with a resounding slap. "Don't call me fetus, you cretin."_

"_Whatever you say, Fetus," he said, rubbing his forehead wit a grin that he knew would irk her more. He already had ideas on how to annoy her._

_And it was fun._

_She swiped at him again but he jumped back. "Ha! Missed! Do I get a kiss now?"_

_Another swipe, he jumped back again, only to trip and fall flat on his butt._

"_Oops," she said, hand on her open mouth. "Sorry, my foot was in the way."_

_He watched, dazed as she walked away, swaying her hips that were encased in beautifully tight jeans, laughing as she went, taunting him._

_It occurred to him, as he stared after her, that maybe she wasn't totally wrong about him. And for a moment, it bothered him in ways he's never felt. He brushed it off._

"_Coming, cretin?" she called over her shoulder. "I thought the great Gregory House didn't keep the girls waiting."_

"_Coming, my sweet-ass girl," he called, getting to his feet and jogging after her._

_He then promised to himself wouldn't fall in love with her, not that he ever would for anyone anyway. That wasn't his style._

_Besides, he had more important things to focus on._

"_Hey, Fetus, wait up!"_

-o0o-

Tim watched the elevator doors open to reveal a predictable cluster of people waiting by the doors, including one of the utility crew members who looked worried as he spotted his boss the moment the doors parted. Tim stood in the background, waiting. This was Lisa's territory.

"Dr. Cuddy," he said, hat in his hand. "We tried to see what was wrong, but…"

"It's fine, Ralph, that was me," Lisa said, smiling at the older man. "We just needed a moment to talk with absolute privacy."

Ralph smiled, "All right then, good. Have a good day, Dr. Cuddy. Call if you need anything."

Lisa smiled, "You too, Ralph. Thank you."

Picking up his small tool box, Ralph headed off and Lisa turned to the small group of nurses and doctors who were whispering amongst themselves. "All right everyone, nothing to see here. You can all get back to work—we've got a full Clinic today."

Everyone nodded and in less than a second everything was clear. Tim watched, impressed. "What the hell do you do to these people, Lee?"

Lisa turned to her, "What?"

"You got them cleared in a second like a bunch of rats," she smirked. "I feel strangely proud."

"What? It's not like I torture them," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I have excellent employees. Is that so hard to believe?"

"I just spent my morning with Gregory House, do you really want me to answer that?"

Lisa thought for a moment. "Lie to me."

"Then no, I think you _do _have excellent employees," Tim said sarcastically. "Now, where are we going, boss?"

"My office," Lisa said and they began to walk.

"Ah, back to the inner sanctum," Tim said mock gravely.

"God, you sound like House," she muttered darkly. "Stay away from him."

"What?" Tim asked, her boots clicking along with the Dean of Medicine's high heels. "But we were having so _much_ fun."

Lisa rolled her eyes, "Too much fun _at my expense_."

"Yeah, I know, that's why it's fun," Tim said as if it was obvious. "Duh."

"You're supposed to make _me _feel better," Lisa complained. "Why are you even taking sides with him? Him as in House, are you serious?"

"Am I ever?" Tim wondered aloud as Lisa pulled the Clinic doors open. "And I was _not _siding with House since there's nothing to side with. We were just having fun. Is it our fault you look so cute when you're mad or when squirming." She stopped, holding the doors open with one hand. "Did that sound gay?"

"You're not helping," Lisa said over her shoulder as she walked ahead, waving at the nurses at the station. "Come on."

"Oh, you and your bitchy ways," Tim said loudly, making the nurses turn to stare at her. "You think it," she pointed at them. "I say it."

They shook their heads, smiling a little before getting back to work. Tim turned just in time to see Lisa staring at her by the glass doors to her office, hand on her hip while the other rested on the door handle. "Very mature."

"Thanks, I try," Tim said before skipping along after her.

Tim followed Lisa as she entered her office and they both waved at Cody who greeted them as they entered. Just as they were at the doors, Tim stopped, looking at the younger woman. "How long have you been here?"

"About a month," Cody said, smiling.

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh," Cody said, nodding.

"You lasted a month, working here, for her?" she pointed at Lisa who was standing by the doors again. "You're not dead yet?"

"As far as I can tell, nope," Cody said cheerfully. "I like working for Dr. Cuddy."

"You so paid her to say that," Tim remarked to Lisa who rolled her eyes.

"No, I honestly do," Cody said earnestly.

Tim raised an eyebrow, "Oh, well, there's gotta be someone, right? You're a miracle. Pretty too. Ever thought about acting?"

"Not really," Cody blushed.

"Oh, well, shame," Tim said as she sauntered away.

"Dr. Cuddy," Cody called.

Lisa blocked the way to her office, leaving Tim to stand in front of her. "Yes?"

"Mr. Winslow is still waiting in your office," Cody informed dutifully. "I brought him coffee."

Tim gave Lisa a look, "He's still in there?"

Lisa sighed, "Yes, thank you Cody. I absolutely forgot."

"Oh, joy," Tim groused, frowning.

"Tim," Lisa said warningly. "No biting, no kicking, no bitching, no yelling, screaming or cheap shots. Nothing, understand?"

"You didn't mention ball-breaking," Tim said. "Is that allowed?"

"No," Lisa said, shaking her head. "Just get inside, please?"

"Fine," Tim pouted though she was still annoyed. "But I'm not making any promises."

"Fine, fine," Lisa said and they both entered the office.

Nathan was standing by the bookshelf, apparently scanning the books and trinkets on them. He turned, smiling. "Elise."

"Lisa," Tim spat. "Her name is Lisa. Is that too hard for you to grasp, Stinky Binky?"

"Tim," Lisa warned.

"Good to see you too, Tim" Nathan said, smiling graciously. "I see prostituting still works for you."

"Nathan!"

"At least one of us is getting laid," Tim taunted with a laugh.

"Yes, since you'd pretty much sleep with anything that moves, it's not surprising."

"Nathan, that's enough!"

"Oh, and as if saving yourself for someone who doesn't even want to be with you _anymore_ is noble?" Tim jabbed maliciously.

Lisa stopped as Nathan stared hard at Tim who was looking victorious.

"What's the matter, Nate?" Tim taunted, smiling serenely though her eyes were glinting with viciousness. "Did I hit a nerve?"

Nathan barely flinched, his eyes never leaving Tim.

_If looks could kill._

"Tim, please," Lisa said softly. "That's enough."

"Oh please," Tim scoffed. "Don't even tell me you can still fall for that wounded puppy look."

Lisa turned to see Nathan who was looking quite fragile while at the same time angry. Tim wanted to gag. "Nate, don't listen to her, okay? Just…please, don't fight anymore."

"You know I'm right, Nate," Tim crooned. "The sooner you admit it, the sooner you stop kidding yourself and the sooner _Lisa _can stop feeling guilty for nothing."

"Tim, please!" Lisa cried and turned to Nathan, her hands landing on his chest without thinking. "Nathan, it's nothing, okay? Tim is just not feeling playful today…"

"Oh, I _always _feel playful," Tim said sensually.

"Tim, I think I remember you mentioning you need the bathroom?" Lisa said, nudging her head at the closed door.

"What? No, I don't think so," Tim said, grinning sardonically.

She knew what her doctor friend was up to, with her hands on the wounded puppy's chest. Tim knew Lisa was going on another consoling session with Nathan who would predictably milk it and _manipulate _her into being with him again. Lisa was not naïve, but Tim also knew how her mind worked.

Lisa would be propelled, first off, by her guilt over thinking she'd left Nathan hanging over the years then the next would be Lisa's old feelings, no matter how dead, and memories—both of which who would give her reasons why she _should _be with Nathan, all that drama of first love and all. Another reason would be her need to feel the familiar, to be comforted while her world was threatening to break again.

It was still clear as day to Tim how Nathan had come sweeping in that day, probably one of the few days she tolerated him, and took care of Elise while she broke into pieces over and over again. Elliot had been by Tim's side, Nathan at Elise's. That day had left them all broken, but mostly Elise.

That day, that moment, would be one of the times Tim would willingly pay Nathan Winslow back for. If there was one thing he was good for, it was consoling Elise. Tim didn't think much of him, but even she knew enough that while personally she believed he _wasn't _the one for her, he at least knew how to take care of her.

At least, he used to.

"I think you do," Lisa said, her eyes screaming _murder_. "Right there, that door…"

And before she knew it, she was being pushed into a bathroom with a hiss, "You stay in here or I _will _kill you—slowly."

Tim rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go ahead, be Mother Theresa, but I swear, Lily, if you do _anything _close to _my _definition of stupid, I _will hurt you_ just to get some sense into you."

Lisa rolled her eyes too, much the same way as she did. "Just stay here!"

With one last warning glare, Lisa closed the door softly and Tim found herself looking around the small bathroom. It had 'Lisa' written all over it with the earth tones, the various products on the counter, the small plant, the Jasmine scent in the air. Tim smirked, it was so her, to have her own private bathroom—ever the shy girl.

Shy, well, of sorts.

Tim groaned as she looked around, her foot tapping. She was getting antsy fast. She was jonesing for a cigarette and at the same time felt the urge to bite her nails. She did that, when she was bored or stressed or when thinking too deep—her nails took the brunt of the assaults. She had a nicotine patch in her bag and put one on, cursing the world for not having 'anti-nail-biting-patches' to help her.

If she ever became a mad scientist, she promised that would be the first thing she'd invent.

Focusing herself away from her urges—God, she was feeling chocolate too and it sucked since she ate the last Godiva this morning—she decided to think of something else instead.

Like the fact that Lisa and Nathan were in the same room.

Tim mentally slapped herself for giving in to her dark side, taking that shot against Nathan. Of course, she wasn't sorry for trying to set him straight—he needed it. It only sucked because it got Tim locked in a bathroom and Nathan getting to play wounded with Lisa.

Sometimes Tim could really kick herself.

She really _needed _a smoke.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Her urge to smoke her way to her grave was the only thing stopping her from going out and committing murder. Nathan Winslow simply was _not '_the one' for Lisa Cuddy _and _Elise Audrina Foxworth and he never will be.

No freaking way.

God, no.

Something had to be done.

Fumbling with her phone with one hand and the other already with her left pointer finger's nail already hostage between her perfect teeth, she decided to sort to the next best thing: bitch.

The ringing came and the other side picked up after just two, "Tim?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, get your boy _away _from your sister or I will kill him, chop him up and feed him to my dog."

"Hello, Tim."

"Whatever, just do it or I will," Tim said, turning on the faucet on the sink up to its maximum, letting the sound of the water help drown out her conversation. She wasn't sure if the bathroom was soundproof.

"Tim," Elliot chuckled. "First of all, and this is _important_, you _don't _have a dog—"

"Oh, I'll get one, just for this," Tim said. "I heard Dobermans are quite good."

Elliot laughed again, "And second, whatever Lily decides about Nathan is up to her. Not he or I can dictate her decisions. Whatever she does, I'll support her."

He knows better than to point out Tim couldn't do the same not because she could, but because she always went on some exhibit A-B-Z about how she thought she could. It was a long tired conversation and Tim knew Nathan had long given up.

"They're outside, talking," Tim gritted out. "And don't act like you don't know your sister. She can be swayed, you know that—it's her damned guilt. How the hell did that happen anyway? Damn it, Elliot. You cannot simply be serious about Lisa and Nathan!"

"It's up to her," Elliot said. "I'm sorry, Tim. It's really up to her."

"Fine," Tim sighed. "But I'm not holding back. _I'll _work on it. You'll thank me for it one day."

"Just don't hurt him too much, okay?" Elliot said. "He's been nothing but good to her and me."

"Of course," Tim said, nodding though she really wanted to flush her phone down the toilet. "I'll try not to mangle his heart too much. Yeah, _right_. Did you check your caller ID?"

Elliot chuckled. "He still loves her."

"But she _doesn't_ love him," Tim said exasperatedly, picking up the container with toiler paper and setting it on the counter in front of the mirror. She leaned towards her reflection, her finger drifting to her long lashes, rearranging them with a soft nudge.

"She told you?"

"Does she ever have to?"

"Tim, you might be jumping to conclusions," Elliot cautioned.

She closed the lid of the toilet and stepped on it then sat down on the tank, crossing one leg over the other and letting it bounce. "I jump to and _on _a lot of things, Ellie, but this one is right on—no jumping required."

"Uh, what?"

"Nothing," she muttered. "Come on, Elliot. Get him away from her. Be a big brother, go kick his ass for sniffing around your baby sister."

"Lily is hardly a baby, I'm quite proud of the fact that she can take care of herself," Elliot said and she could feel his proud smile through the line. "And Nathan is practically my brother so I'm fine if they do end up married for the next fifty years."

_The 'M' word._

Tim winced, feeling her stomach lurch but made sure it didn't show in her voice, "First, uh, _no way in hell_ and second, incest much?"

"No," Elliot laughed. "But you know what I mean. In fact, I would be happy if Lily and Nathan do get married, someday, one day. It's been practically set in stone, Tim, and you know it. They've been together for how long? Since she was, what, thirteen?"

"Don't remind me," Tim moaned. "Elliot Asher Foxworth, you are not doing your big brother duties! Strap on some balls and do something!"

Elliot laughed again, "Tim, come on. No need for name calling." A pause. "And my balls are in place, thank you very much."

"You know, for a dying guy, you sound fine."

"Tim."

"I mean," Tim groaned. "I hate you. My meanness and bitchiness always fail around you, I hate you. I hate you, you make me human, you and your retarded sister."

"She's not retarded," Elliot said.

"If she marries Nathan Winslow, yes, she is," Tim scowled at the 'M' word. "And she _won't_, not if I can help it…"

"How is she?" Elliot asked, sounding melancholic. "How's Lily?"

"She's okay," Tim said. "But she's been having mini-meltdowns…"

"Oh, god…"

"She's fine, don't worry," Tim soothed. "She's just overwhelmed by your dying."

She did not need to mention about the mini-breakdown in a sports car.

"Tim, please."

"You sound like her," Tim complained. "Fine, fine…no more cheap shots…for now."

"Thank you…" Elliot trailed off. "Could you…"

"What?"

"If you don't…" Elliot sighed. "If you don't mind, could you tell me…about her?"

Tim smiled. "She's still the same, still bossy, still loud, still your sister. Nothing's changed much although…"

An image of the baby's room in Lisa's house flashed.

"What?" his concern and alarm was too clear not to be read.

"Nothing important, just that…" she growled under her breath.

She was breaking their codes—hers and Lisa's. She was toeing the line today, too many times in fact, and now here she was, on the verge of telling something she shouldn't even know.

"Tim, what?"

Lisa could tell Elliot herself—Tim was not going to make another risk. Lisa meant too much.

"When she was having a mini-breakdown," Tim said, deciding this was worth telling. "She decided she's coming back."

A pause on his end and then a deep breath, in and out…

"Elliot?"

"I'm here," he said, gruffly. "Is she sure?"

"She was remembering, that day," she didn't have to say which one.

Elliot sighed, "I know…is she okay?"

"She's worried sick, she's scared," Tim said automatically. "She's coming, for you. Damien, she could care less about and she still hates The Bitch." She ran her hands through her dyed black hair. "Unsurprisingly."

"Barbara has changed," Elliot said gently.

"It doesn't change what she _did_!" Tim spat angrily.

Barbara Bennett had just as much effect on her as it did on Lisa, more probably since her deep seated self-loathing began because of her and the magnitude of what she'd done to Elise while Tim had been far away and had been too late to help her.

She heard Elliot sigh deeply. "You make it sound as if she did something dreadful. To this day, she swears it was an accident."

Tim felt her nails dig into her palm and her teeth grind against each other. "It wasn't an accident."

_And you have no idea._

"Tim, it was an accident. I'm sure Lily's gotten over it…"

"She hasn't," Tim hissed. "And she _never _will."

Silence echoed between the lines for a moment.

Elliot clearly hesitated before talking, "I need to ask you something."

"What?" Tim ground out.

"You…" he exhaled. "You make it sound so bad, what happened with Barbara, while Lily won't even talk about it…sometimes, when I hear you, I feel as if there's more to the story than there was…like there's something I don't know."

Tim unclenched her hand and stared at the red glowing crescent shape imprints in her skin. Elliot was on a roll today, pushing and tempting Tim into saying things that weren't hers to say.

She would, if Lisa would let her, and she wasn't stupid enough to break that trust.

"I don't have anything to say to you about that," Tim said, trying to sound as nonchalant as she would be. "Except that if I'd have…" her breath hitched. "Been _there_, I would have pushed her down the stairs instead…"

"Barbara insists it was an accident," Elliot said. "She told me what happened. They fought, Lily walked away and she followed. They fought more. It led to the top of the stairs, they kept fighting and then Lily fell when they had a physical altercation."

_Talk to your goddamned father._

"If you want to know what happened, talk to Lisa," Tim insisted. "Call her, she's waiting for your call, Elliot. She misses you."

"I miss her too, but Tim, I _need_ to know," Elliot said. "If there's something I _don't _know about what happened, I _need _to know."

"Don't we all?" Tim asked. "Just…you need to call Lisa."

"She's coming, isn't she?" Elliot asked. "I'll talk to her then. We have so much to talk about…"

Tim shook her head, "Elliot."

"Please, Tim?" Elliot said. "Don't tell her anything. I…I need to her to come home."

"I'll go with her."

"Of course, I would expect nothing less."

Tim shook her head, "I'll let you know what she plans."

She felt his smile. "Thank you, Tim."

"Sure."

_Fuck._

Tim hung up and after that conversation she realized she needed a pack of cigarettes now. Shit, her cravings got worst, she still wanted to chew her nails off _and _her hands were a bit bloody from her nails. Perfect…just perfect.

Tossing her phone on to the counter, letting it clatter, she leaned back, her boot tapping against the lid of the toilet, the other leg resuming its bounce. She turned her head and saw her reflection.

"You are in deep shit Tim Theodoratus," she mumbled at herself. "And you better do something before it hits the fan."

_Aw, fuck._

Where was she going to get a cigarette in a bathroom in a hospital?

Sometimes she hated that murder was illegal.

It would make life so much easier if she could just kill the people she hated.

Right?

Crap.

She really needed a smoke.

-o0o-

So what _did _the Barbarian do that Elliot doesn't know about?

Anyway, here's the update! Your reviews have been awesome, as always, and I love you guys.

I hope the flashbacks were in character…I think they're not, but I hope it's close. Ugh. Hate this. Anyway, hope you likey-like. I tried, didn't I?

Anyhoo, what do you think about Cuddy deciding to come back? And what happened with Nelise alone in her office again after Tim practically tore through softy Nathan? What about Tim and Elliot's conversation. What does he _not _know?

Cuddy's flashback will continue possibly next chapter. It's very possible, trust me so look out! You have an idea already, but hey, you'd like to read it, right?

And maybe Lucas will make his next appearance, along with Jimmy.

So many to chat about—talk to me! Review! I think I have one week left for school and then it's officially my summer. Awesome, eh? I can't wait!

**Replies:**

_kyrie_: Hey, welcome to Huddy fanfictions then, hun! So happy to have another reader and thank you for your review, you're so sweet! A lot of you guys are makin' me blush I might as well just look like a tomato all day! Anyway, keep reading, okay? And don't worry. This is a Huddy fic and one way or another House and Cuddy will end up together—we just got a lot of bumps to deal with along the way. Thank you!

_Kakashifangrl1012_: teehee…Butterfly was the weirdest I could come up with at four AM on a weekday and it makes Elise look quite different from the Lisa Cuddy we know, right? All shall be explained, promise! I'm trying to show you all just how different Elise and Lisa are, I hope I'm making progress in that area. Oh well. Tim's story on the other hand, well, you've read a bit here in the flashback, but I'm a twist-whore so there's bound to be more to that. As for the College-Huddy, well, I'm working it out. I hope this flashback was okay! Wah! Tell me! The rant for Social Contract is down there, but it was a bummer we only got one scene for Cuddy.

_DoctorLisaCuddy:_ LOL You made me laugh with your reactions! As always, thank you for reading (and squealing) and for reviewing. I love reviews! And 'Cute' does sound cute for Nathan and Elise, but that might be confusing. I'm willing to go either way—Cute or Nelise, as long as we know them, right? Cute. LOL And OMG on the Huddy+Tim thing…meow!

_Shikabane-Mai_: you read fics in school? Naughty! You make me bad LOL but I do too! Can we help it if we crave Huddy? Addictions must be met! Thank god for wireless and laptops! I hope you liked this chapter too!

_leo_: If I could, I would have Tim just taunt House with Lisa's name, but it would drive me crazy! I love twisting stuff. LOL but I am glad you like my story, thank you! Keep reading, don't worry. Soon, the unveiling will start and House will be thrown into a loop.

_Invisable Rose: _Did her step mom kill Butter? Maybe, maybe not—if I tell you that would ruin it! LOL And yup, whoever killed Butter or any dog: NOT COOL. I'd kill _for _my dogs and cats and pet rat. Nobody hurts my babies. And Nate calling Elisabeth 'Aunt' well, chalk it up to them growing up together—Nate being a good boy and all, polite. They are not blood related or anything. Just close families—LOL I'm not that sick. – Oh and I was so freaking pissed off about that 24 thing. Ugh. So gay. Pfft!

_Emzypemzy:_ Oh, honey! You have no idea how giddy I was when I saw your uber long review! Got me all tingly and stuff. Teehee…giggly too. Not kidding. My mom thought I was losing me marbles! Anyway, I'm replying but not much or else I'll ruin the story. So happy you like Timmy! And trust me, I was having fun when she was making her suggestive comments about Cuddy! I thought it'd be funny so I went with it and it seems you guys are loving it too. Yay! Hm…you hate Nathan. Oh well, someone's bound to. I can tell you and this counts as a **spoiler**—you're gonna hate him more in the coming chapters. As for Tim's and Lisa's friendship—strong, trust me, it's strong. Oh, and you got me ROTFL about your hate for Nathan and how you find him creepy. Teehee…I never saw it that way so thank you, you opened my eyes to his creep-ish ways. More to come, honey, hold on, okay? And DON'T **ever **apologize for long reviews because I thrive on them as much as I do for reviews. I love your thoughts and inputs, it's great to see in reader's heads so please, keep up the long reviews, okay? They make me smile and write and make more twisty stuff in my head. Hope you liked this new chapter!

And for the other reviews, those who didn't review and those who are reading, thank you! I'm glad you guys are sparing time to sit and read my work. It makes me happy and giddy and all that dorky stuff. Thank you so much. I'm happy you're enjoying this and I hope you will until the end.

**The Social Contract**

Holy freaking Huddy! Short scene, but you gotta admit, that was _damn _good! Her smile…in the end…gawd, so beautiful. I would definitely turn gay for that smile alone. Gorgeous! Gay for Lisa! **I am a **_**proud **_**Lisaddict**, who's with me? Uhuh! The guest star was great—his acting was great—definitely one of the best guests for this season.

The plot was good too, I love this episode, despite the lack of Cuddy scenes though the Huddy one made up for it immensely. The unveiling of Wilson's brother Danny was heartrending and greatly explains why he is the way he is. And for some reason, I can't wait to have House meet Danny (is that really happening?). But mostly, I was moved by the case. The way Nick desperately seeks help when he's so close to losing everything, including his child and wife who he involuntarily tears apart due to his illness. So sad, really. And the scene with Chase, when House actually asks for help because he _knows _the kind of hell Nick will land in if he doesn't get cured. I love how they transformed House into a human being, for making him actually _want _something for a patient that involved _beyond _diagnosing. Of course, he's done that before, but this time, it's personal. It's quite moving, to see him _not _want someone else to be in the tortured hell he has been in for a long time now.

The scene with Wilson telling about Danny was touching too, up to the point where House got his epiphany. I felt a bit sad for Wilson as he waited for House to finish the phone call, but I think it worked out for the best—this was something I think he needed to do alone. I'm hoping to see more into Wilson's history, maybe a glimpse of Danny too.

--and this is too long _again_! I'm stopping. To make it short and sweet: _the episode was freaking fantastic!_

Anyway, that's it. Oh, and that random note up there before I began the chapter. I still think it's cool! LOL but that's just me. Cuddy and Brenda in one ep of Without a Trace! Cool!

Anyway, review my darlings, more to come!

xoxOphelia

_Come Home _by _One Republic_

_**Note: **__damn it. Was it just me or was everyone else having trouble uploading their work? I tried to update earlier, but I couldn't because of some sort of error. Crapness! Tell me you guys had problems too…? Tell me I wasn't alone._


	17. Chapter 16: Say All I Need

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Warning: Would you allow me to commit this faux pas and write Cuddy here as _not _anti-leather like Lisa Edelstein? Because that would give me _so much _shoe opportunities for her! (preferably Christian Louboutin and Jimmy Choo) And **probably **I'll cross out her vegetarian-ess here too. Is that okay? Don't hate me.

Note: I gotta say I was surprised you liked the previous chapter so much. I thought it would suck and I'm not just saying that. I swear.

And from this moment on, I have to warn you—minor characters will be compromised. Mama House is still a dream, but she has a big chance of coming in, but Chameron and Foreteen—sorry, don't see anything forth coming here which pisses me off because, really, I don't ship them, but I do prefer my stories balanced, but due to popular demand that I hurry my writing ass up…they had to be chopped off. Notice how Foreman has suddenly disappeared? I hate myself.

**EDIT: **I changed Elise's home a little and this time put more details on it—address, description and all. If you notice the difference from before, then you got a great memory. Anyway, the address and house are completely made up. Promise.

Chapter Sixteen: Say (All I Need)

Elise shut the door lightly, leaning her forehead against the wood, breathing in deeply and then expelled the air out in a rush. She was bracing herself, for what, he didn't know, but Tim's words had left him partially wounded and it hurt. Was it possible that Elise truly _did not _love him anymore? Not even a little?

He still remembered her, the way she was, when she was still so full of love for him, despite the dark shadows that always seemed to loom over her near the end before she ultimately ran away from everything and him.

Elise loved him then, he was sure, he felt it and saw it. Their parting had hurt her as much as it did him. He waited because he knew she needed him to.

But Tim had an annoying knack of knowing Elise and, though he loathed admitting it, she'd kept contact with her all these years, giving her the advantage of knowing the woman Elise had become. Still, he held on desperately for hope that Tim was just being her brash and abrasive self, trying to have one up on him as always.

"Elise?"

He saw the way her body stiffened, her shoulders turning rigid, her hands freezing in place as they lay limp flat against the wooden surface. He felt his stomach plummet.

"Please don't call me that."

"What?" he asked, confused. "But—but that's your name."

"You're making this harder than it has to be," she said quietly.

"Make what harder?"

Nathan heard her take a deep breath then she turned to him, her face a mix of emotions that even he could not read. "Elise…"

"Please," she said, raising a hand. "I really don't want to do this here, but Nathan, look around you, look around _me_." She gestured around her slowly. "_This _is who I am, I _am _ Cuddy with an MD in the end, my _name_ on that door outside says my title that I workedhard for."

"Yes, I know, and I am so proud of you," he said, coming towards her, but she shook her head and walked away to the direction of the doors, but she stopped in the middle of the room.

"No, you _don't _understand," she said, the beginnings of frustration creeping into her voice. "Nathan, _this is my life now_," she walked over to him, her hand caressing his cheek softly. "And…I'm not sure if I'm ever going back."

"You..." Nathan stared at her, feeling the warmth of her touch on his face. "You just can't do that, Elise. You still have a life there and what about Elliot?"

"I'm coming for Elliot, _soon,_" she said, her hand beginning to slide away from his face but he held it there, not willing to let go of her touch. "But that's it. I will come but not as Elise because," her eyes bore into his, a slight shade of storm blue filled with determination meeting with pleading emerald green. "She's gone, Nate, and I'm so sorry. I just can't be that person anymore."

And right there, Nathan felt the weight of the reality that he _did _lose her, a long time ago. It was a fact that he knew, deep down, he wouldn't face. He felt her fingers slip from his face and saw her eyes grow sad, sad _for him_, and she took a step back.

"I'll understand if you want to leave or if you're angry," she said sincerely. "Thank you for coming, for being here for me again."

Nathan felt a war inside him build because at the moment, he felt like walking away, just to spare himself more pain after being faced of actually losing Elise, but at the same time, he felt the pull to stay, knowing she needed him even though she didn't truly want him.

"No," he said, smiling as natural as he could. "I came here to be here for you…" he rubbed the back of his neck, causing a lock of hair to fall across his forehead. "And I should be sorry, for pushing you like this."

She nodded. "I understand. I know this might be…hard for you. Please don't think I'm not struggling with this either."

He sighed, taking a step toward her and taking her hand in his. "I don't want you to struggle, not with anything," he smiled, better this time. "I'm here, I'm staying as long as you need me to. I'm here for you, okay?"

She looked at their hands entwined then looked up at him, "You're too good to me."

He smiled, "You know I'm here for anything. I like being good to you."

She nodded then her expression changed into apologetic again. "About what Tim said…"

He raised his hand, stopping her. "We'll talk about it when you're ready."

"No," she said, shaking her head as her hand slipped away from his to land gracefully on his shoulder. "I mean, Nate, after all these years…you could have married someone…"

"I didn't want anyone but you," he said honestly. "And I was willing to wait as long as it takes."

"But…"

"I tried," he admitted sadly. "I tried to forget you, Elise. I tried to date—see other women, date, go to trips and even long term relationships—but none of them compared to you." The corner of his mouth curled up. "They couldn't make me forget you."

"You shouldn't have put your life on hold like that," she chastised softly.

"I didn't," he said. "I worked, I took the firm and I worked with my father and even with Damien and Elliot. I reached all the expectations."

"Whose?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "Whose expectations, Nathan? Your father's?"

"What else is there?" he asked, grinning. "They had our lives mapped out right from the start; you and Tim were the only ones who were brave enough to break those plans."

She smiled, "And I'm more than happy I did and the same goes for Tim." Her eyes clouded over with concern. "What about you, Nate? Are you happy?"

"I was content," he admitted. "But I'm happy now."

"You can't base your happiness on me," she said, pulling away and walking to her desk.

"Lily," he followed her, grabbing her wrist gently. "I'm not, but I can't help it if I'm happy _with you_." He let his thumb run smoothly against the inside of her wrist. "You set the bar a long time ago and it was so high, none of the women I tried to move on with measured."

"That's why you should have tried harder to forget me," Elise said gently. "Because I can't be the girl you fell in love with anymore."

Nathan nodded, "But what if I can fall in love with the woman you have become?"

"I don't think you can," she whispered, looking away from him.

"I think I can," he said as he lifted her wrist to his lips, kissing where his thumb had been touching. "I think I can fall in love with you no matter who you are."

He breathed in her scent before taking a step back, reluctantly letting her hand fall away from his. "But I'm not asking for anything or forcing you. I'm here to be your friend," he tucked his hands into his pockets. "I promised you once that I'll always be here for you and if that means being your friend, then yes. I _can _be your friend, Elise."

She stared at him for a moment, her other hand's fingers playing over the part where his lips had tenderly kissed her skin.

"I'm here for you," he said, nodding at her with a reassuring smile.

Slowly, Elise began to smile. "Thank you, Nathan." She came forward, pressing her cheek against his chest, a gesture that was familiar between them. He made sure to shield her from prying eyes and let his arms hold her.

It felt like coming back to life, holding her again and for a moment, Nathan felt the kind of happiness that had been too far out of his reach since she left. Holding her, he felt alive.

"Thank you for being here," she whispered, her eyes closed.

He smiled, letting his hands touch her hair, "I promised, didn't I?"

And for a moment, Nathan Winslow was happy.

-o0o-

Tim leaned back against the wall, tapping her phone against her leg that was draped over the other. Lisa hadn't let her out yet and she was tempted to just go out and ruin whatever was happening outside, but she was sure that would be a big mistake. Lisa was something when she was serious and Tim knew not to mess with her then. Then both had limitations and they both understood them without words.

_Plus, they were hell-bitches when they get mad so there was that too._

She didn't bother try to imagine what was going on the other side of the door, but she was sure they were not having sex or kissing. Lisa would be too proper for that, would not dare do anything blatant in front of her employees—she needed their respect too much to jeopardize it with Nathan. For that, at least, Tim was grateful.

For once, her prudish-ness was working with Tim.

Rolling her eyes slightly until they rested up at the ceiling, Tim thought back on the few hours she'd spent with Lisa. She seemed okay, apart from the mini-breakdowns, and Tim couldn't blame her for that. She would have felt bad too if she'd been fed the same lie if it was Elliot or Lisa. She'd be worried sick, of course.

Which was why she wanted to go out there and wring Nathan's neck.

He should know better how dangerous this game was and though their intentions, his and Elliot's, were clean and all for Lisa, Tim was sure it still wasn't going to help once she found out the truth. The betrayal would be one thing, but manipulating her to get her back to her father was something she was sure would only add another blow.

Lisa had made it clear to them that she had no intention of seeing her father or her stepmother again, except _maybe_ if it was in a funeral or the grave (her father's). Tim knew Lisa and she wasn't by nature unforgiving or one to hold grudges, but past mistakes and past hurts drove her to truly hating and rejecting her father. The stepmother, Lisa could care less about.

Tim knew after everything she'd been through with her father, it had scarred Lisa for life and she understood her still painful wounds that hadn't seemed to heal through the years.

She wondered, for that was all she could do, how she would react once she found out it was Damien who was dying. Would she be forgiving then or would she walk away? Tim guessed there was a sliver of a chance Lisa would stay and say goodbye, but she also knew Barbara had about as much chance as an ice cube in hell of receiving anything other than a slap on the face from Lisa. Of course, Tim would go for something _much _stronger than a slap, but she doubted Lisa would be as vengeful, despite the fact she'd been the one to suffer most.

Damien, by his blood and for being the father he was _before_ Elisabeth's death, still had his chance in his deathbed, but Barbara, after all these years, had lost everything.

She'd brought it upon herself and Tim didn't give a damn what Lisa would do once she saw her again. Killing her was a beautiful option—preferably something slow and painful—Tim would gladly help hide the body or better, dump it for some rabid animals on the side of the road.

_Hate and animosity at its best…_

It was bad enough Elliot didn't know, but Tim would wait until Lisa was ready to tell him everything that happened between her and Barbara. She wasn't sure if Lisa would ever be ready—there was a chance she wouldn't tell him at all ever—but Tim wasn't going to do that for her. It wasn't her story to tell.

But she was certain that if ever Elliot knew the real story he would lose control too. He would be angry, _furious_ once he found out what Barbara had done. If she cared, Tim knew Nathan would be too, more so, really since the story included him just as much as it did Elise. It would hurt the lonely puppy that was Nathan.

With a smile, Tim could only imagine what Elliot would do, with her help and Nathan's as well.

No one but God would be able to save her—if Elliot knew.

Tim wished she could tell him, but Lisa was adamant not to say a thing. She wondered why, of course, but she suspected Lisa didn't want her brother doing something that would ruin his life and let Barbara win again in the process.

Lisa had always been more logical and rational than Tim.

Tim hated a lot of things, a lot of people, but most of all, she hated fate. Right from when they were young, Elise had always been a good girl. Cautious and cheerful, Elise had never been bratty or mean like Tim had been at one point in her life. Tim hated fate for taking away Elise's mother and for shattering her fragile little world, leaving her motherless and prone. She also hated Damien's weakness and stupidity, for bringing in the plague that was Barbara who had successfully ruined whatever life Elise had left.

Not all sins were to be forgiven, Tim could care less about God and Heaven, but she knew the levels of sins that were forgivable and unforgivable. Damien had committed his sins, but they _could _be forgiven, _maybe,_ but for Barbara—Tim would give her a first class ticket to hell.

If Tim could trade her parents' lives for Elisabeth's and change everything, she would have in a heartbeat. Her parents, she could care less about, but Elisabeth had been the mother she never had. Losing her that day had been as bad as losing her real mother.

"_Do you think they're there?" Elise asked, her face pressed against the window as her home came to view. "Do you think mommy's there already?"_

_Tim sat back, "I don't know, Lily, but would you please settle down? We're almost there now."_

_Elise sat back, smiling at her happily. "Let's ask Mrs. Kinsley to sneak us some fudge tonight before bedtime," she said mischievously. "Mommy loves her fudge, doesn't she?"_

_Stella Kinsley was the wife of Frederick Kinsley who were both originally from England and had moved to New York at Damien Foxworth's request. Frederick was from a family of butlers while his wife was from a family who owned a small restaurant. The couple moved a few years after Damien and Elisabeth had their first child, Elliot, since their original butler had decided to go back home to his family. Frederick took to his duty while Stella headed the housekeeping duties and, at Elisabeth's request, made desserts._

"_Yeah, and so do we," Tim said, looking forward now to those delicious thick fudge Mrs. Beth Kinsley liked to make down in the Foxworth's kitchen. Every now and again, they would both sneak in pretending to be secret spies or thieves and steal some fudge and Mrs. Kinsley would play along, pretending she couldn't see them_

"_Yum," Elise said happily. "We're here! We're here! We're HERE!"_

_The car slowed to a stop in front of the rustic elegant building where Sam had made sure to be at the curb right out front and Elise, bouncing in her seat, resisted the urge to jump out ahead and run around the car and into the house. She'd done it once before and was severely chastised by her mother and father for being so reckless._

_Tim waited for Sam to open the door, "Welcome home, Miss Lily."_

_She made sure to hurry out lest be tackled in her seat by a much too enthusiastic Elise who was nearing combustion in her haste to get home. "Slow down," Tim said as Elise flitted up to the doors, her meticulously prepared hair flying behind her, the ribbons flowing through the silken brown locks._

"_Hi Rory!" Elise waved as she flew by the doorman who was grinning at her._

"_We're home!" Elise called as passed the lobby of the building their family owned._

_Home was 995 Fifth Avenue across the Metropolitan Museum of Art. An elegantly old New York design with nineteen bedrooms, including seven with private bathrooms, an enormous living room, a ballroom, a hidden den and a whole floor for the maids and helpers, state of the art kitchen and a private library that extended into a study. The Foxworth home was one of the most famous New York homes for its grandness and elegance. It was Damien Foxworth's palace for his wife, Elisabeth Holloway._

_And when it came to Elisabeth and later, his children, Damien Foxworth held no boundaries, the sky was the limit and money was nothing compared to their happiness._

_The first three floors of the building held the Callaghan family, an Irish family who flew in to the city for business who preferred to rent rather than own their building. They spent most of their time back home in Ireland rather than in New York, usually leaving the children except during breaks from school. The remaining seven floors that were at the top of the building were home to the Foxworths, including the penthouse with a pool._

_Elise rushed to the elevators, pressing the button over and over until the bell dinged. "Tim, come on!" she said happily as Tim followed, Sam behind them with their bags._

_Bouncing on her feet, Elise watched the numbers change until it got to their floor._

"_Freddie, we're home!" she called out to the butler as soon as the doors opened with a ding._

_Tim hurried after, feeling just as excited though not as willing to show it. They were met at the doors by the always properly dressed English butler. "Hi Freddie," Tim smiled, knowing they were the only ones who were ever allowed to call him that._

"_Hi Freddie!" Elise mimicked as she zoomed into the house. "Mommy? Ellie? Dad?"_

_Tim looked at the butler who was usually warm and friendly towards them. Today, he looked sad and quiet. She passed by him, shrugging his weirdness away, thinking he might be just under the weather. She could hear Elise calling out to the house loud enough to wake the neighborhood._

"_Mommy?" Elise was calling, standing at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her to come down. "Ellie? Is _anybody_ home?"_

"_Lily," they heard someone call. Elise and Tim turned to see Mrs. Kinsley enter with her nanny, Isabel who hurried to Elise's side, a handkerchief crumpled in one hand._

_Elise stared curiously as Isa, as she had affectionately called her since she could talk, held on to her tightly. "Isa?"_

_Tim watched, feeling the beginnings of nervousness take hold, feeling as if there was something wrong that the women were about to tell them. She wanted to close her eyes and disappear because a part of her felt this was something she didn't want to hear._

"_Oh, darling," Isa said softly, patting her hair comfortingly, her Spanish accent thickening through her tears. "Lily…"_

"_What?" Elise asked, pushing gently away to look up at the woman. "Isa, you're starting to scare me." She turned to the housekeeper, "Mrs. Kinsley? Where's Ellie? Is mom home yet?"_

_Mrs. Kinsley, more composed, held her hands in front of her. She visibly took a deep breath before talking, "There's been an accident…"_

Tim opened her eyes, wide, feeling her heart beating wildly against her chest. Like Lisa, she _didn't _want to remember, knowing the rest of the story and the dark ending. Reliving that day was just as torturous and as painful.

She was just on her way exiting being a kid and that day, she heard bits and pieces, understood and gathered more than Elise could, especially in her shocked state along the halls of the hospital where her father had held on to her and told her what was happening. Elliot was inside, sitting with Elisabeth, unwilling to leave.

Lisa had held on to Tim's hand, unwilling to let go even as her father explained to her what had happened and why her mother was there, unconscious with doctors milling in and out. She remembered how hard she'd held on tight to her hand, almost breaking her fingers, but she hadn't let go either.

That day she knew they needed each other more than they ever had.

"_I'm so sorry, Lily," Damien said softly, hugging his daughter against him. "I know it was wrong trying to keep you away, but I didn't want you here in the hospital."_

"_What happened?" Elise asked, her eyes brimming with tears. She was only twelve, she didn't know much about hospitals, but she knew this was serious. It was hard to understand why her mother who was so young and full of life was there._

_She was supposed to be home, with them, telling them about her trip._

"_It was an accident," Damien said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Another vehicle hit your mother's car after running a red light. Where she was sitting took most of the blow, but the doctors are doing everything they can to help her, okay? Don't you worry, sweetie, they're going to make her better."_

"_I want to see mommy," Elise said, softly as a few tears slipped down her paling cheeks. "I want to be with mommy."_

"_I don't want to scare you," her father said, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "Mommy's got a lot of scratches and wounds right now…"_

"_I don't care," Elise replied strongly. "I want to see my mom."_

"_Okay," Damien said, nodding. "Your brother is inside, but you have to understand, Lily," he said cautiously. "She's very hurt right now and won't be awake. You can sit with her and talk to her because maybe she can hear you so you have to be strong, okay?"_

_Elise nodded, "Okay but I want Tim with me."_

_Damien looked at Tim, "Of course. I'll go with you inside, but after, I'll come back out for Isabel, okay? There are things I need to talk to her about." He looked at Tim and hugged her and his daughter close, "You two are going to be okay, don't worry."_

_Tim nodded, "I know." She looked at Elise and shook their hands gently at her side, "We're in this together. I'm not going anywhere."_

_Damien smiled in thanks as Elise nodded, comforted for the moment._

_Elise looked at Isa who nodded encouragingly at her, "Go ahead, little one, go be with your mother; I'll be right here."_

"_Thank you, Isa," she said in a whisper._

"_Okay," Damien said, holding his daughter close. "Come on. Just remember, she's…sleeping."_

_Following Damien in, Elise held on to Tim, keeping her close beside her. Upon entering, the first thing they noticed was the machines in the room surrounding the big bed where next to it, Elliot sat, holding on to his mother's hand as she lay, seemingly asleep._

"_Mommy," Elise croaked out in a strangled whisper._

_Elliot looked up, "Lily…" he got up, gently letting Elisabeth's hand go before meeting his sister as she stood staring by the door. He held her in a tight hug, holding her to him. "I'm sorry I wasn't home when you came."_

"_She's…she's hurt," was all she could say as she stared at the bed._

"_She's not in pain," Damien said softly, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder. "The doctors are making her comfortable."_

_Elise pulled away from Tim and Elliot, she went to her mother's side. Once she was closer, she immediately saw clearly the deep gashes on her mother's pretty face, the bruise that covered her jaw up to her cheek and the bandage that peeked from the neckline of her hospital gown. There were small band-aids near her hairline._

"_Mommy?" Elise said softly, her shaking hand landing on her mother's once beautiful black hair, that now looked slack and dry, it was the only part she felt a little safe to touch, afraid of hurting her more or breaking her completely. "Can-can you hear me? Please, wake up…"_

_The tears began to roll down her pale cheeks and Tim was immediately by her side._

"_She's just sleeping," Elise said softly, taking the seat her brother had just vacated. She reached out for her mother's left hand, the one Elliot had been holding and the one that didn't look too hurt. "She's only sleeping."_

_Elliot stood next to Elise on the chair, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They're doing everything they can, okay?"_

"_No," Elise whispered. "It's not okay," she laid her head on the bed, her hand holding on tight to her mother's. "Mommy, wake up…" She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I promise, I'll…I'll be good, promise…just wake up."_

_Elliot looked at Tim, "Thank you for being here."_

_Tim nodded, but didn't say a thing._

_Elise wasn't listening as she stayed next to her mother, whispering to her and bargaining with her to wake up. She begged for her to wake up, but instead Elisabeth lay like a broken doll, her eyes closed, eyes that matched her daughter's hidden from the world._

"_I'll eat all my vegetables," Elise said quietly. "I'll…I'll stay home on weekends, I'll go to tennis practice, I won't skip lessons…I'll-I'll be good to Isa—I'll listen always, I won't stay up too late anymore…" she hiccupped before dissolving into sobs. "Mommy, please."_

_Elliot shook his head and knelt down next to her seat, pulling her gently away from the bed and hugging her to him. "You're okay…"_

"_I'm-I'm scared," she sobbed. "What if…what if she—" she hiccupped again. "Doesn't wake up ever again?"_

_Elliot looked at Tim, his eyes filled with hidden fear and tears, not knowing what to say._

_She reached out and took his hand._

Tim closed her eyes, blinking back tears.

"I have no tear ducts," she declared into the empty room, the sound of the running water from the faucet nothing more than white noise now as her mind rebelled against her.

Memories she had long ago buried were coming back, forcing her to remember things she wanted to just forget.

She went through them once, she didn't want to go through them again.

Tim needed to be strong for Lisa.

Lisa needed her.

"God," she moaned. "Please, just _one _stick and I swear I'll be fine. Please."

Of course, nothing came.

_Fuck._

Tim needed to get out or else she would need a gun to shoot herself in the head, just to end the memories. She was never a fan of memory lane.

-o0o-

James Wilson had just finished one of his rare uninterrupted rounds through his department when he slipped back into his office, ready to check with his assistant who was penciled in to meet with him that day. He sat back, freed of his white coat, and began to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt.

Briefly, he wondered what House was up to, wondering what kept him and his profound discussions from interrupting his morning when Wilson had been the one to drag him to work early. He had heard whispers and giggles about a patient that sounded like it was from the Diagnostics Department, but Wilson hadn't heard any solid news.

His rounds, something he kept in a tight schedule in order to meet his patients' needs, was something he liked to maintain. He wasn't overly fond of death and dying, not he, but interacting with patients, especially the ones in the Children's Oncology Ward where the kids there were usually always happy to have visitors. Wilson knew how being cooped up alone in a sterile and cold hospital could bring someone down to depression which was why he liked visiting his young patients.

Of course, Cuddy had done more than enough to make the Children's Ward comfortable and cheerful, despite the death that continuously hovered above the young souls, but nothing could ever beat a playground full of kids, sunlight and the loud ring of the bell signaling recess.

Shaking his head away from his patients and House, whatever he was up to, Wilson got ready to pick up his phone to call his secretary when it rang. He always thought moments like that with phones and mobiles where ironic, "This is Dr. Wilson."

"Hey, Jimmy."

He glanced at the phone before listening again since he was sure that was not House who was usually the only one to call him that. "Uh, pardon?"

"It's Lucas."

"Oh, hi," Wilson said, alert now. "Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice for a moment. How's it going? Find anything?"

"Yeah," Lucas said. "And it wasn't that hard. This guy you got me digging about is kind of famous around the city, big name and all."

"Good," Wilson said, nodding. "What did you find?"

"A few things, but I gotta tell you first about that name," Lucas said and Wilson could hear papers shuffling. "There's no record of Elise anywhere. Not a wife, no sister, his mother's name is _not _that and not even in his office building." He chuckled. "This guy is clean and if I didn't know better, this guy must be gay."

Wilson nodded, "Okay, okay, what about the…"

"Hold on," Lucas said suddenly. "I've got some interesting stuff here…Not much, but you know. I'm in town right now. I can swing by the hospital, is that cool?"

Wilson checked his watch. He was sure he could get his appointments moved. "Yeah, sure. Come by right now. I'll see if House can join in."

"All right," Lucas said. "Should be fun."

"Yeah, thanks," Wilson said and hung up.

Grabbing his coat, his cell phone and wallet, Wilson dialed his secretary's number and headed out the door. "Hello Rina? Yeah, could you move my appointments to this afternoon? Tell Miss Babcock, Mr. Newman and Mrs. Elkridge there's been a family emergency. Give them my apologies and tell them I will meet with them at a more convenient time. Thanks."

Closing his office door behind him, Wilson headed to the office right next to his, sure House was going to be there. He hurried his steps, making sure to not think about what Lucas had said about that name House had insisted Nathan Winslow had called Cuddy.

Though he wasn't sure he was willing to admit it yet, Wilson was beginning to think there was something between Cuddy and the stranger.

Shrugging his white coat back on, Wilson headed to the door that would lead to the main office only to find House on his Eames chair, his cane laid over him with his eyes closed as if asleep.

"House?" he said tentatively, afraid to scare him out of sleep.

"I'm not asleep," House muttered though his eyes remained closed. "What?"

Wilson placed his hands over his hips, "What are you doing? Don't you have a patient?"

"My team is on it," he said. "What do you want?"

"What are you doing?"

"Getting my freak on with Carmen and Angelina," House snapped, his eyes opening. "And we're only admitting three, we're full so go make your own fantasy."

Wilson shook his head. "Ah, productive. I'm sure Cuddy'll be happy to know you're busy."

House rolled his eyes and grabbed his cane. "Cuddy won't be bothering me for a while."

Wilson's eyebrows shot up, "What did you do?" He looked around the office, as if expecting the corpse of the Dean of Medicine stashed somewhere or at the very least, the Dean tied up to a chair. "Where's Cuddy?"

"I didn't do anything, you idiot," House grumbled. "Her girlfriend is in town."

Wilson's brows furrowed, "Girlfriend as in…"

"Pseudo-gay-lesbian lover," House informed. "And she's one hell of a crazy bitch."

"Ah," Wilson drawled out. "Your type, huh?"

"Shut up," House said as he got up, pushing his body forward, mindful of his leg. "She bumped into my patient and got her dancing around the stairs."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," House said and popped a pill. "What's important is why we've never once heard her mention a girlfriend before?"

"Well, knowing you and your somewhat less to be desired relationship—or non-relationship—with Cuddy," Wilson couldn't resist needling and watched House sit in front of his computer. "I don't think you'd be the person she'd want to tell about her personal life to."

"And what about you, _James_?" House taunted, reminding him very much of the day before, the look on House's face after that kiss had been quite interesting and at the same time threatening. "Since you're the best-est-biggest-_kissing-_buddies now, don't you think she would have told you about your predecessor?"

Wilson sighed, "We talk about things that bother her, I don't force her to divulge about her life."

"Ah, the ever faithful shoulder to cry on, lean on and drool on," House said, typing and clicking away. "Perfect with the ear to listen and mouth to smooch the night away…"

"House," Wilson sighed. "It wasn't what you thought it was. There's nothing between me and Cuddy so there's no need to get jealous."

House stopped and stared at Wilson, "I don't get jealous."

"Of course not," Wilson said, walking over to House's desk. "What are you doing?"

"Gotcha," House said, smiling as he watched his screen. "Artemis Lynn Theodoratus—theater director and owner of The Village Voice. A smash-hit on Broadway-blah-blah for Black Widow's Kiss-blah-blah-oh…"

"Who's that?" Wilson asked, moving behind House to watch the screen. "Pretty."

"I knew you'd like her," House said, grinning. "I ordered a bride for you. She's here right now. She's hot—you'll be thanking me forever."

"If you did and she is, you'd be hitting on her yourself," Wilson remarked. "Seriously, who is she and what was that 'oh' about?"

"She's a theatre director-slash-fashion-designer-slash-violinist," House answered, squinting at the screen. "From Julliard."

"Multitalented," Wilson remarked. "Who is she?"

"She's…Cuddy's best friend," House said, staring at the screen. "And you've got tickets for her show, remember?"

Wilson thought for a moment, "Oh, right. Yeah, Christmas show." He stopped, raising his eyebrows, "So, who's taking your mother—me or you?"

House rolled his eyes, "Why don't you do that, Mommy Number Two? I'm sure you'll both bond over pretty lil' me."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Whatever, House, but if you're interested, Lucas is coming by with some information on Nathan Winslow and you'll be interested to know—there's _no_ one connected to him by the name of Elise."

"Interesting," House looked up, "You little minx, you sick _my _dog on him? Why else do you know? Come on, tell it to poppa."

Wilson held up his hands, "Don't know. He's on his way now. We're meeting in my office."

House checked the screen, "This information sucks anyway. It doesn't even mention she's a lesbian." He picked up his cane, "Well come on then, Jimmy. We've got snooping to do."

Getting up and lumbering up, he walked past Wilson who was still staring at the screen. "Are you sure that's Cuddy's best friend?"

"No," House said over his shoulder. "That's really her lesbian lover. Cuddy's batting for the other team—always has, always will. Lucky Thirteen, huh?"

Wilson sighed. "House…"

"Come on," House said, waving him along. "We've got a man-date with the PI who can't lie."

Following House, Wilson took one last glance at the screen before following out. In the back of his mind, he catalogued the pretty smile, the vibrant red hair, the sea-green eyes and the Greek name. She was beautiful, he mused, but then again, this was House. Who knew what or who she was? He had better things to do.

And maybe, as he remembered the face, he _didn't _want to know her.

At least, not really.

_Of course._

-o0o-

House was determined.

That leech was inside her office, he was sure, and he was also sure he _was not_ in the hospital for some fake brother. The pretty-boy had other agendas, he could feel it. And Cuddy, being her little baby-hungry, vulnerably-close-to-Club-Spinster, do-me-high-heels self, was sure to fall for him.

He was rich and charming, she was desperate and addicted to her work—the perfect busy trophy wife _perfect _to alternate with weekend girlfriends—there's a match made in heaven.

Not that House _cared_ of course, it was just that a bitchy-heartbroken Cuddy was not fun at all and he was sure, miserably-married-to-a-dick Cuddy would be no better.

It had taken him nearly ten years now to train her, what would he do with a new one once she killed herself over being alone or being married to a jerk? No, House could not and would not have that. Not that he cares of course he just needs his world as it is.

_Of course._

Now thanks to his best friend's persistence, he would know what he was going to be dealing with. The other confrontation with Hubby-Candidate Number-Question-Mark had been a little imperfect. Of course, it had been a surprise when he had met Doug—Don?—on that blind date with Cuddy. How was he supposed to know the guy was actually loaded? The guy _did _look like a shriner. Eastern Lube—that sounded dirty—he didn't even like that place. _Blah_.

And contrary to what Lady Braless said that night, _he didn't like her_. He simply wanted to screw with her. _Duh_.

Next on line was Mr. Winslow. What could he have? House needed to know. Fighting invisible and anonymous enemies were a bitch.

Slipping into Wilson's office, carelessly banging the door against the wall, he plopped himself into Wilson's couch. Of course, he wasn't kidding when he said there was a butt-mark that belonged to him there. It _was _there, honestly. That couch was in love with him.

"So, where is the over-priced snitch?" House asked as Wilson slipped inside, taking his seat behind his desk.

"He's on his way," Wilson said as he picked up his phone. "I'll check with him now."

"Put him on speaker," House instructed. There was no way he was letting Mr.-I-can't-lie and Dr.-Feel-Good leave him out of the loop.

Wilson nodded as he pressed the phone to his ear then pressed a button from the machine and placed the phone back in its cradle. The ringing sound pulsated around the room.

Lucas picked up. "Jimmy."

House raised his eyebrows at Wilson who shrugged. No one ever called him Jimmy expect his best friend in the whole wide world.

"Lucas, I've got House here," Wilson said casually. "Meet us in my office, we're here."

"Where's Lisa?" Lucas asked.

"Lisa?" House echoed. "Who the hell is that?"

Of course, he knew, but Cuddy would always be Cuddy to him. Lisa was just some candy-ass name—no character and not fitting for the hell-bitch in Prada that ruled her kingdom of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with her beautiful posterior and gorgeous breasts.

"Funny," Lucas laughs in that way that sounds like he's slowly dying from being out of breath.

"House," Wilson shakes his head. "She's probably in her office."

"Oh," Lucas said and House can't seem to grasp whether he sounds disappointed or disinterested or _trying _to sound disinterested. "Good."

"Mr. Charming is here too," House informed. "He's with _Lisa_."

"Who's that?" Lucas counters in his subtle smart-ass way. "Anyway, this guy is loaded. You already knew that. He's a big shot lawyer from one of the best international all-service law firms right now, _Winslow and Herzog_. He started the firm right after working for his father's who's dead by the way. His parents are big names around New York too—couple of socialites, Cornelia Ann Basset and Henry Winslow."

"Dad's a lawyer, right?" House confirmed. "What else?"

"I'll tell you when I get there," Lucas said. "Do you have any idea about the dangers of driving while on the phone?"

"Yeah, but I don't think I care enough," House said loudly. "Where are you?"

"Here," Lucas answered. "I'm coming up."

"Take the stairs," House said, waving his cane at Wilson to shut him up.

"Why?"

"You might bump into Cuddy on the elevator," House replied. "Wouldn't want you two to share an awkward moment, right? She'll read you like a book. You'll blow it—and not in a good way."

"Oh, right," Lucas said, agreeing. "Yeah, she won't like that."

"Yeah, and Wilson won't be paying you," House nodded, "I'll see you then, pal."

Hearing the phone click with a satisfied smirk, House leaned back, resting his cane beside him and pulled his legs up on the couch, ever the lazy tom cat. He could feel Wilson's eyes staring at him as he turned off the speaker.

"Why did you do that?"

House shrugged, staring at the ceiling. "Because I can."

Wilson paused before countering, "You did that so he _can _avoid Cuddy."

"That's what I just told him," House hummed, satisfied with his lazy day.

"No," Wilson said and House rolled his eyes. "You're doing this because you _don't _want him around Cuddy. You're jealous when he's around Cuddy."

"Have you been snorting weed again?" House asked, looking over at Wilson.

"No, no," Wilson shook his head, waving his hands. "Cuddy liked him, he likes her—"

"Legs."

"And you don't want him near her because she might like him enough to go out with him," Wilson rattled on his theory. "You're jealous."

"I don't get jealous," House informed with a petulant sigh. "And FYI, they already went out once."

And he showed her his old cheerleading picture. Thank God she knew him well enough not to believe it. It's not like Lucas was right, about the crap House wanted to show her he had a different side. She's seen that side and more.

Anything for a good nookie, she'd know that well enough for sure.

"Which makes it worst," Wilson added dutifully. "It proves she's _okay _with going out with him so it means there is a possibility she will like him enough to date him or go out with him _again_."

"Your logic is irrefutable," House said. "But you're wrong. I don't care if Cuddy makes googly eyes at the hired help, but I do like bitching-Cuddy more than crying-sack-of-tears-Cuddy and I _know _that's what will happen if she ever goes out with him. The guy's an idiot."

Wilson raised his eyebrows, "Wow."

"What?" House rolled his eyes.

_Here we go…_

This psycho-babble was getting old real fast.

For a moment, House wanted to ask why Wilson didn't just drop Medical School and head straight for some How-to-be-a-shrink sessions if he was so gung-ho on acting like one. Cancer was, at the moment, incurable, but House was sure idiocy and craziness had a chance.

"I think that's as close as you'll ever get to admitting you don't want to see her get hurt," Wilson sounded in awe. It annoyed him he was in awe for the wrong reasons. How could his jumping to wrong conclusions awe him more than House tricking a delusional patient into believing he could see her dead mother to let him talk to her through her?

Of course, if he could sum it up he could admit Wilson was just an idiot that way—nothing wrong with that. Jimmy boy couldn't be great at _everything _right?

"I already said I don't care about her," House reiterated with much disdain. "Ergo, I _don't _care if she gets hurt. Come on, Wilson, how many brain cells are you losing these days?"

Wilson shook his head, "House, the sooner you admit you have feelings for her, the less problems you'll have in the future."

"Wow, you're psychic now?" House said sarcastically. "Tell, me when and where Cuddy'll drop her thongs for me? Will I get two rounds? Three? _Or_ is she wearing her Madame Cuddy outfit for some Dominatrix sessions?"

"You couldn't last three rounds with Cuddy," Wilson muttered. "And stop being such a child. Just admit you care for her and the rest will come easy."

"Yeah, I know," House said with a grin. "I _admit _getting Cuddy off has always been easy and it takes no more than one session…"

Wilson was silent for a moment before shaking his head, eyes wide, "You slept with Cuddy?"

"I kinda hit that now she's all over my jock," House said in a very hungover-teen voice. "Totally rocked, dude, like…seriously hot."

"When? Where? How?"

"You know I don't kiss and tell," it always amused him how gullible an intelligent form like Wilson could easily get sucked into conversations like this.

"Seriously?" the poor man looked ready to burst.

"No, you idiot," House snapped. "I _didn't _sleep with her. Not yet. I've gotten her wet, yeah, but I have to say I care for little Greg too much to get his balls blue over her."

"House, seriously," Wilson gave him that analytical look again, like a bug under the microscope. "You…" he cocked his head to the side. "You _have _slept with her!"

Ah. Ever the intuitive boy.

He never did tell Wilson he'd done the nasty with _Lisa_.

_Cuddy, on the other hand, was a different story._

"Whatever you say, Jimmy," House hummed again. "But I assure you, little Greg and his balls are still very much there and that should tell you something."

"But-but…" Wilson blubbered and House wondered if he was having a mini-seizure.

"God, you're such a queen," House groaned.

Leave it to Wilson to have a vein explode in his head at the very idea of House sleeping with the untouchable untouched Lisa Cuddy. The man needed to get a life.

Or possibly, a fourth Mrs. James Wilson to busy himself with divorce proceedings…

Did Cuddy mention if her crazy bitch was single? He needed to find that out.

_Artemis Theodoratus-Wilson…_that had a nice ring to it, eh?

The opening of Wilson's door interrupted his scheming and Wilson's pending coronary and House couldn't be more grateful. Not that he would show it, "God, don't you know how to knock?"

Wilson stared at House while Lucas grinned, "Like you do?"

"Of _course_, I do," House said snottily. "Now, hand over the goods."

Wilson shook his head, "Thanks for coming Lucas. We weren't expecting you to get information this fast. Have a seat."

Lucas sat in the visitor's chair. "It wasn't that hard. I even got to call my last client."

"Yeah, yeah," House said, getting up. "Tell us again what know."

"Okay, but there's really not much to know," Lucas said, glancing at him then at Wilson. "Nathan Winslow, senior partner of Winslow and Herzog, only child of Cornelia—"

"Whoa, what?" Wilson interrupted. "What did you say?"

"What?" Lucas asked.

House sat up, "Did you say he's an only child?"

"Yeah," Lucas said.

House turned to Wilson, "O_nly _child. Where did the brother come from?"

"Guess he doesn't exist," Lucas answered needlessly. "Or maybe he's a nut job who thinks he has a brother."

Wilson looked to shocked to answer. "I, uh..I…"

"Keep going," House demanded, on a roll now seeing that he was _right_. There was something about the leech. The little rat was lying.

"Nathan Andrei Winslow is an only child—no indication of a brother or _sister _or any sibling dead or alive. Not even a dead baby, nothing. Cornelia Basset and Henry Winslow only had one child together. They were pretty into the whole one love, one child thing."

"Or mommy doesn't enjoy nine months of pain and excess skin around her tummy," House suggested. "But who cares? This guy is a big fat liar."

"What do we tell Cuddy?" Wilson asked. "I mean, this guy is running around in her hospital…"

"Oh, Lisa," Lucas said, nodding. "So the guy's sniffing around her."

Wilson smirked, "Yeah and someone's not happy."

"Says the one who insisted we call on Clouseau America," House mumbled.

Lucas turned to House, "Dude, you haven't sealed the deal yet?"

House scowled, "Who says 'seal the deal' anymore?"

Wilson and Lucas grinned, "We do."

"Yeah, like I care, shut up," House muttered. "There is no deal to seal. We have some idiot conning his way around the hospital here."

"What about that girl?" Wilson asked, ignoring House completely. "That name?"

"No records of an Elise anywhere near him," Lucas shrugged. "Anyway, this guy's pretty rich, like I said. His mother's family, the Bassets, owns one of the oldest shipping companies in the world. Old money and all that and his dad was a big shot lawyer back in the day until he retired. Little Nathan was supposed to take over for mommy and daddy, but he decided to make his own law firm from scratch, his met his partner, Ian Callum Herzog, from Yale where he graduated third from the top."

House gave Wilson a look, "Smart guy, huh?"

"Yeah," Lucas agreed. "His father was from Yale too. And the Skull and Bones thing _is _real so shhh! It's a secret, but they're part of it."

"So smart, rich, good looking, charm-her-panties-off perfect with his very own secret society free pass," House enumerated as if he was diagnosing a disease. "What's he doing with Cuddy?"

"Well," Lucas said, exercising his neck from side to side with his eyes closed. "She's smart and witty, earns a pretty good pay with a high-end and respectable job, she's hot and beautiful, single and decent and funny—I don't know, but do you think it's possible that he likes her?"

House snorted, "This guy is a thoroughbred donkey—Cuddy's Cuddy, what would he want from her if he can have _anyone_?"

Lucas shook his head, "Just because _you _treat her like crap and take her for granted, doesn't mean other guys won't find her attractive and beautiful." He grinned. "She's got _great _legs too."

House scowled at the private investigator, holding his cane close, "She's two inches close to becoming barren, dried up and _old_. Not exactly wife material for some rich bachelor."

"Financially, she's pretty well off," Lucas countered. "She's not two miles from being barren or dried up _or _old. I happen to think she's pretty great …"

"And it's no surprise if she's caught his eye," Wilson added. "Cuddy's a catch, who knows?"

"Oh, you would know, wouldn't you, _James_?" House snarked. "Can we please get on with the topic here? Rich guy—liar, Cuddy—desperate…wait, is he gay?"

"No," Lucas said. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he was although he's got some old girlfriends listed—two of them were models, one was a professor from Columbia, two lawyers and other rich names around the city."

"Maybe he's looking for a beard," House mused. "I mean, Cuddy's the perfect cover—she's got the ass, the funbags and she's proven she _can _live without sex. She hasn't gotten laid in what, how many…years?"

"Thanks to you," Wilson said, shaking his head. "And how would you know exactly?"

"Because she doesn't have a boyfriend," House answered. "And Cuddy's old fashioned that way, sort of, she's not the one night stand type unless she's sure she'll be seeing the guy again." He shrugged. "It defeats the one night stand purpose, but if it makes you feel better, she's not opposed to putting out on the first date…"

"I'm going to pretend I don't care _how _you know that," Wilson muttered.

"I just know, I am _that _good," House bragged. "And Cuddy's too pseudo-Victorian to kiss and tell so just accept I _know _because I'm god."

Lucas nodded, "See? Another reason why she's a good candidate for perfect wife—add the fact she's never been married and divorced, that's a plus. She'd be a great wife."

"Would you shut up?" House snapped. "Get back to snitching."

"He's clean," Lucas said without missing a beat. "Clean record—no drugs, no booze, no money problems, not even a speeding ticket."

Wilson sighed, "That doesn't answer what he wants with Cuddy."

"Maybe he doesn't want anything," Lucas said. "Maybe he just likes her. Basic boy meets girl thing—he likes her but he's shy about it so he comes up with a lame excuse to talk to her. Very old, but guaranteed to work…"

"Then why does he have to go all the way to talking to me about a non-existent brother with cancer?" Wilson asked.

House stopped, remembering the scene in his head. "He didn't come to you. _Cuddy _left him with _you_ which means Cuddy orchestrated him ending up with you and old charming had to come up with more lies to seem convincing."

Wilson thought for a moment. "Right."

"Come to think of it," House said, his brows furrowed. "She has been acting off lately…"

"Yeah, she almost smash your skull in, I _know_," Wilson said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"She got violent?" Lucas asked. "Cool. And about time, what happened?"

House scowled, "Are you all just waiting for me to get killed?"

"By her?" Lucas asked. "Yeah, pretty much. You aren't exactly Mr. Personality. It wouldn't surprise me if she ends up liking the guy if he treats her right."

"Like you did?" House asked.

"Yeah," Lucas said, nodding. "I made her laugh, we talked, I didn't insult her with my compliments, _I _paid when we ate out and I got to know her and let her get to know me. Can you blame her for wanting a gentleman?"

"She's got Wilson for that," House defended. "And her throng of male employees who she's driven into the bathrooms during their lunch hours with her do-me-heels and ass-hugging skirts..."

"You keep proving me right," Lucas said happily. "I like you today." He looked at Wilson. "And Jimmy doesn't count, not really."

"Why not?" Wilson asked, confused.

"Because you're his best friend," Lucas answered. "And you see how he treats her badly so you make it up to her by treating her like she should be treated—it's like you're paying for all the crap he put her through which makes you the balancer so you _don't_ count."

"That's crap," House said.

"Yeah," Wilson said. "I like being nice to Cuddy. She's my friend."

"And you suppose treating her good makes up for everything House has ever done?" Lucas asked pointedly. "You think it's going to make up for all the crap he puts her through?"

Wilson thought for a moment then sighed, "I guess not…"

"She needs all the gentlemen the world will allow her," Lucas said. "Why should she turn down a good boyfriend and potential husband?"

"Hey, I'm paying you to do your job, butt out on non-snitching topics," House snarled. "Get back to spilling information."

"_No_," Wilson said, cutting in. "_I _am paying him."

House scowled. "It's the same thing."

"He does have a lot of points House," Wilson said timidly.

"Yeah, and he's going to have another one when he meets my cane," House snarled, glaring at Lucas who was looking particularly happy with the situation. "_Again_, stalker weirdo-rich guy with a death den targeting desperate and vulnerable hospital honchette—can we step this up a little?"

Wilson and Lucas looked at each other and House suppressed the urge to club one of them with his cane. They were trying not to grin _at each other _and failing miserably. He had not seen this coming, not at all and he was pissed off.

_The two morons were agreeing and getting along._

Not good, not at all.

Alliance, that's what was happening right now. _Alliance _between them both.

_Shit_.

Some bastard lying rich Romeo, Cuddy, the crazy bitch lesbian Tim now Wilson and the Private Investigator from rationalizing-hell.

Perfect.

Why did he always have to do _everything_?

Today was not going to be a good day.

"Hey, popo," House poked his cane at Lucas' shoulder. "I need a phone number."

"What for?" Lucas asked. "And what happened to the Phonebook?"

"Wilson's paying you, might as well make it worth it," House said as he got up. "Get me the number to Atherton Memorial in New York."

Wilson watched him, curious.

"I'm going to need a consult over my patient," House explained.

"What patient?" Lucas asked, curious as well.

"It's more like Wilson's patient, but who cares? They all die anyway," House waved him off. "Get me Dr. Billy Lang."

"You're calling Dr. Lang?" Wilson asked. "This isn't about your patient, isn't it?"

House gave him a grin, "New patient: Elliot Winslow."

-o0o-

"Are you out of your mind?"

Cuddy jumped as the sharp tone penetrated her almost silent world and she blindly pushed Nathan away as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. She turned and suppressed the urge to wince as Tim stood there, her hands on her hips, her eyes reading murder and telling her she was indeed doing something incredibly wrong.

"Of all the stupid mistakes you could fall back on, you choose this one?" Tim hissed as she began to move toward them.

"Come on, Tim," Nathan said carefully. "It's not like we were having sex or anything."

"Yeah, you'd like that though, wouldn't you?" Tim bit, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Tim, come on," Cuddy said, nervous now at the look in Tim's eyes. She was angry.

"You!" Tim jabbed a finger in her face, one sharp nail drawing both her eyes in a dizzying way. "Stay away from him! You have things to think about and he doesn't count as one of them!" She turned to Nathan, slapping him on the shoulder. "You, stay away from her! You've done enough, you little leech. Go away!"

"I'm here for Elise, I am not leaving," Nathan said, not at all perturbed.

"You are going to be needing _something _if you don't go away and I'm done with you!" Tim spat like a mother hen protecting her chicks. "Just leave, Winslow."

"You really have to stop acting like this, it's getting weird," Nathan said calmly. "This little rampage is making me think you're batting for the other team now."

"I'm possessive, not jealous," Tim said sardonically. "And like I'd ever be jealous of you? Ha! You may be prettier than a baboon's ass, but I've got more balls than you!"

Nathan shook his head and turned to Cuddy, "I'll be around if you need me. I find a strange amusement looking around your hospital. You've done very well."

"Why does that sound both like a jab and a compliment?" Cuddy wondered aloud.

"Believe, darling, it's a compliment," he cooed, kissing her lightly on the cheek only to be pulled back abruptly. "Artemis! Get off!"

"Tim!" Cuddy cried as Tim successfully pulled Nathan a safe few feet away, grabbing onto his suit with her ling fingers and nails.

Tim stopped, leaving a good gap of four feet between Cuddy and Nathan and she stood in the space between, arms over her chest. "I have rules when handling my prized possession with care, Winslow, you've heard them before but I'm making you hear them again."

"Oh, here we go," Nathan muttered, his eyes cast downward as his hands smoothed down his rumpled suit.

Cuddy didn't bother to comment about being called a possession by her best friend. There were just some things in her life she'd gotten used to. It was Tim's affectionate label for her.

In a lot of ways, it was like dealing with House. There were things she didn't like but dealt with having, knowing a fight would be useless. Tim's antics was one of them.

"Do you remember what I said to you?" Tim asked with a slight growl.

Nathan tucked his hands in his pocket, standing to his full height in front of her. He towered over her but she was not at all intimidated. Cuddy had seen her one too many times take on bigger opponents on legendary bar brawls.

"This side up?" he teased, eyeing her chest, earning himself a slap on the cheek. "Ouch, damn it!"

"Tim," Cuddy warned. It sounded like it did hurt and immediately she could see the reddening on Nathan's face. She as tempted to go and check if he was okay, but Tim's fury was focused on him for which she was thankful for. She didn't want any of that fury directed at her.

Cuddy wasn't afraid of Tim, but the woman tended to be a volcano with her anger. Destruction abound when she went on full rampages and by the symptoms she presented, Cuddy could see she wasn't that far from doing just that.

"Did that hurt?" Tim asked sarcastically. "Now, again, _do you remember?_"

"Keep her in one piece," Nathan recited like a four-year-old.

"_And?"_

"Don't piss you off," Nathan said with a hint of a question.

"Shut up," Tim growled. "I told you _not _to bother her ever again, you mindless little drone!"

"She's in one piece, I am not bothering, I am being her friend!" Nathan defended. "Please, Tim, for once just…let me be what she needs."

Tim took a step toward him, "I would, Nathan, you know I would let you _if _you were what she needed." She shook her head, "But right now, you're not and I can't let you."

"Tim, he hasn't done anything wrong," Cuddy said, hoping to stop whatever was going on even though she herself didn't know. Something was off and in the back of her mind, something was telling her there was something she missed.

But the rational side of her told her that if Tim knew something she had to, she would tell her. Tim would tell her—secrets didn't count as part of their friendship.

"No, he hasn't," Tim kept her back towards her as she stood facing Nathan. "But that won't be for long, Lisa. I know."

Nathan's eyes widened slightly in a way that Cuddy wondered if she imagined it or not. "I'm not leaving her," he said to Tim. "Not again."

"Of course," Tim said, nodding. "But you _can't _be around her right now, Nathan. Let her live her life or…I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Cuddy wondered why suddenly Tim was sounding more civil, perhaps even kind to Nathan, with the hostility and the rage gone that clouded over her just moments ago. It bothered her.

Nathan looked past Tim and at Cuddy, "I'm not going anywhere."

Cuddy nodded, "We can talk…later."

"She needs to go back to her life now," Tim said, this time the patronizing tone in her voice suiting for Nathan now. "Leave, Nathan."

Nathan smiled at Cuddy, "Call me."

"I will," Cuddy said automatically.

With a slight with and a sigh, Nathan turned away and walked out of the office, leaving the two friends in the middle of the room. Tim stood watching him leave and Cuddy watched her, wondering if there was something she missed.

Was Tim keeping something from her?

Cuddy didn't want to believe she was because she knew Tim wouldn't leave her out in the cold like that. They knew each other and told each other everything, regardless whether it would hurt or not. The truth was something they both clung to.

The lies they hung and told to the world was enough to poison their sanity, not lying to each other was something they agreed upon, comforted in knowing somewhere there was someone who would always say the truest of truths.

That was something to hold on to.

And the very though that Tim was lying to her, scared Cuddy enough to let her lie to herself.

They were okay.

Always.

-o0o0o0o0o-

Okay, I admit, I really don't like this one. Honest. It feels empty, I don't know. You decide.

Okay, summer started for me officially a week ago and apart from using the first two days staying in bed and leaving only for meals and the bathroom because of finals then using the rest of the four days to looking for some semblance of a job to have something to do this summer—I'm yours now.

And yes, I got a job…and it's lame. Ugh. There's this radio station in our city and it's the only one I can tolerate enough to listen to and every summer they have job openings and guess what? I got a job! Not delivering coffees or anything like that as I'd expected but they'd actually decided to let me blab on to the city five days a week! Yup, you got it, I get to run my mouth non-stop for five days. My friends think it's "cool" but I'm not sure. I love to talk though so it might work out, right? What do you guys think?

Oh, well. The pay is decent for someone who doesn't really need it.

Anyway, I'm so sorry I didn't get to update. I've been the total sloth really and this chapter messed me up a bit. I should apologize to the Lucas-House-Wilson scenes—so OC, but I tried…it sucks. Oh, well, House tag teamed with Tim on Cuddy, who says Wilson can't do the same thing to him with Lucas?

And Lucas didn't find out much, huh? But don't worry, he will **soon**_**.**_** Promise**. I've got some plans for him that would pretty much give him reason to stay on updates.

As for my minor characters—Brenda, Cody and the teams?—oh well, the medicine's screwed up, but it'll be over soon. It's excruciatingly embarrassing to write since I know nada. And what do you think was happening beyond the doors while Cuddy reconnected with her past? You'll see.

**Random:**

I don't know if you guys care, but when I heard Natasha Richardson died, I was _so _sad. She was so beautiful and watching her in the movies…she was such a classy and captivating lady. A few days before she died, I watched Wild Child for what seems like the tenth time. I love her movies. It's such a shame that she died so young. She was a great actress, beautiful and talented. She will be missed.

_Why do good people have to die so young? Why not the ones who are so gung-ho on wasting their lives away? They make such a mess of their lives, why not just take it away? Natasha Richardson was a great woman who did so well with her life. It's a shame she's gone._

I hope no one minds my random comment. It was just such a shock when I found out.

**Replies**

_kyrie:_ I'm glad you liked the Library Scence—I was unsure of that, I thought it was a bit OC. And about answering your review? Well, I have this thing with reviews, you know? I mean, I ask you guys for reviews and I like interacting with you guys, I just think it should only be right that I say something back and acknowledge you, right? Besides, you guys reviewing make me really happy. Why not give some happy back along with the chapters?

_kakashifangrl1012:_ I totally get it since I can relate to the crazy weeks thing. We all have it and apparently, after updating so late, you notice I had one too. _Sigh_ Life getting in the way of fanfics should be a crime, eh? LOL I gotta say I'm excited to be sending Cuddy home for a bit—should be fun, eh? I hope I won't screw it up! I'm glad you still like Tim, I know I do. Like you, I'm waiting for Ellie to see Cuddy again…and that scares me! How do I write that? Ugh. I'm glad you can relate to Elliot and -_If you tell anyone, I'll deny I said or write it completely_- I'd go stir crazy if I was away from my sister that long too. I'd kill her, wring her neck with my bare hands, but she's one nut job I won't want to deal without. And LOL like you, I LOVED House's race track! I watched it for how many times and never got tired repeating!

_cloybellsouth,net: _hey you! So glad you still like my fic! I saw your profile already, can't wait to chat up with you more! About Butter-will be revealed in time and I'm basing her mostly on my dogs (I have a lot, cats too!) I'm happy you think the College scenes are in character—they bothers me when I start writing them. I worry too much, I know. And LOL I agree on your 'get Nathan away from Cuddy' method with using House. Don't worry, we'll get there. Tim and House will be…joining forces at times. I like that, I hope you guys will too! As for Nathan? Oh, him. He'll see everything so will Elliot…and they'll see whether doing this is a good decision or not. More to come, promise! I have a twisted mind.

_Emzypemzy: _you got me going OMfG when I saw your review! Marry me? LOL that has to be _the _LONGEST review I have ever seen _ever_. I'll PM you, is that okay? We might equate a whole chapter with my replies to your single review. Oh, my… I totally heart you.

_Shikabane-Mai: _LOL I don't watch Without a Trace too, but when I saw her, I loved her there! And it was awesome when I realized it was Brenda Previn! That elevator scene with Cuddy and Tim was so not in the plan, but for some reason—it clicked at the last minute. Truth is, I added that right before I posted—so happy it fit! And about the Huddy-past—thank you so much for thinking it original! As much as possible I didn't want to look like I was grabbing other writer's idea so I try to make it as unique as possible. I don't know, I try. I don't want to make other writers think I'm poaching their works. And the Fetus idea…LOL totally weird me moment. I'm happy you liked my OCs though…I gotta ask, _what is a mary-sue/gary-sue?_ I've seen those around but don't really get what that means…I sound stupid, I know. I get like that in some areas. Help? LOL _blush _And oh my, you ship Tim/Cuddy…ship name? I mean, _Nelise_ got their own, why not them too? _Tuddy _sounds weird, _CuTi sounds still weird…_I don't know, what do you think? - - - - As for the secrets that abound? Well, I have a twisted mind, I'm glad you enjoy it! All will be revealed and, _oy vey, _'tis not going to be pretty. No, no, no…hang on, this girl is trying hard to shock your socks off.

- - - - and you made me blush _again_! That chapter really didn't settle well with me. Thank you for appreciating my fic, you make me happy! And yup, summer means more updates—I'm hoping I'll be on the sequel/Book Two before the next semester starts.

_About summer: _Our school starts in June so it ends in March, but don't feel bad, when you're whiling it away on _your summer_ vacation, I'll be back in school.

_Invisable Rose_: To answer your College-Huddy question: you'll find out about the weekend _soon_. I've got it all worked out in my twisted mind so…you know, be prepared for _anything_. I would say that the weekend would bring them closer though, make them be more like friends. It'll be a sort of beginning. And like you, I totally love that my Cuddy can hit House so much in my fic. Sounds like fun. Teehee…I'm an idiot like that. And about Barbara the step mom? Well, I've got a lot of flashbacks on her. You'll probably hate-hate-_hate _her. The dad has his reasons, don't worry. I'm not all bad. I'll give you reasons to almost forgive Damien, promise, but of course, it'll be up to you whether he's worth forgiving or not. And about his job? Well…I went on the extremes on that, it's pathetic almost, but I hope you'll forgive me. Soon, I promise! Thank you for reviewing!

_Shopgirl909: _Well, I know it's kind of bad and WAAAY off the House storyline that House doesn't know Cuddy after all, but I don't know, I thought it would make things interesting. I'm a sucker for the dramatics when it comes to House. I knew this story would be hard to believe, but hey, I went with it hoping some would like it and I'm happy some do. I don't mind much that it's not believable, but it's a TV show anyway so no bigee. As for the other characters and the past I made up? Well, it's up to you if you just scan them, but I think it would help you understand her brother more if you do. In all honesty, you are the very first person to express that you _**don't like the brother**_**. **Elliot is a good character that much I'll say. You should probably read on the step mom, she's the nut job of this story. As for Cuddy, I don't consider it as dumb that she would believe the people who care about her. People are vulnerable and they tend to trust people they know and she does—it's not being dumb, I'm trying to make her human. But that's all up to you. Thank you for reading and scanning. I'm so happy you took the time to review! Your input is very much appreciated!

_ChanelBesos: _teehee…I gotta say I loved that line too…It's something I imagined the young Cuddy would say. So happy you're still reading!

For those I didn't specifically reply to, I thank you for reading! I love your reviews just as much as I do everyone else's. Not kidding, promise! I hope you keep reading and, _ahem,_ reviewing! More to come, I promise. My twisted mind is on overdrive these days.

**Here Kitty**

Good ep with awesome Huddy scenes and also that Kutner scene with the spit and the pee (hey, fic title anyone? _"The Spit and the Pee" _LOL) I totally loved the Huddy scene in her office! ON the couch so close got my Huddy heart a-flutter! _And the lollypop was _not _red! _Totally love how they seemed to comfortable sitting next to each other like that. _Sigh _that episode was so worth it. I love how they're around each other a lot! Oh, my…my Huddy heart is happy!

Who's up for Locked-in? I know I am! Gotta have some Huddy because if not I am going to go crazy. Why did they delay another episode again? Going through withdrawal here! **Severe** WITHDRAWAL!

Anyway, long NOTES again. Forgive me.

Please review, drop a cookie, make me happy!

I will update as soon as I can. My radio job doesn't start until April.

I love you guys, thank you!  
xoxOphelia

_Say (All I Need) _by _One Republic_


	18. Chapter 17: Thanks for the Memories

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Warning: **Important—**I know you guys are raring to go for some Huddy, but I should warn you _now_: I have _never_ written **smut **ever and sometimes, when I read them in fics, I still feel weird and get red and all that—yeah, crap or weird or whatever—but seriously so I don't want to get your hopes up in case you're expecting it. Expect kisses and all, but don't hold your breath for all-sex scenes—never personally tried it yet and _maybe _I'll get red faced, suck it up (er, no pun intended) and _try _to write a scene here. _Maybe_. It's bad enough what I'd written on my other fic—I still get red over that, BTW, so there. Sorry, but promise, Huddy will be sweet and full of kisses…soon-ish. Yeah, such a virgin, I know. Don't let the innuendos and double entendres fool you.

Although, should anyone be willing to coach? (Oh. My. God. Did I just effing type that? Sleaze! Ew!) I've read a lot of…Huddy scenes and yeah, that's where I pretty much learned about sex (and, ahem, _more_) since it's still a bit taboo around here where I come from. Oh, well. Whatever.

Chapter Seventeen: Thanks for the Memories

Nathan left and Tim turned to Lisa, quiet and waiting for the explanation she needed. There had to be some acceptable reason why she had to walk in on them, looking pretty much the way they used to before everything went to hell.

At one point in their lives, when Tim wasn't as cynical as she was now, she would have been more accepting of Lisa and Nathan being close like that. She wasn't always so against their relationship, but now, after everything, she knew it would do more harm than good to Lisa to get back together with Nathan, history be damned.

What annoyed her more was _Lisa _should know and understand all this, Nathan could get a free pass—the man was as clueless was Elliot. Lisa and Tim shared secrets that the boys didn't know, Lisa should have known better.

"Talk."

The command was simple and to the point, Lisa should know what to do.

"We weren't doing anything wrong," Lisa said, apparently not as bothered as Tim was. "You're jumping into conclusions again."

"I am not jumping into anything," Tim said, her eyes narrowing. "You know he's bad for you, you _know_, Lisa. You can't risk this again."

"I am not risking anything," she replied dryly, moving to sit behind her desk.

"Yes, you are," Tim said, moving to the front, laying her palms flat against the smooth surface and leaning close to meet each other's eyes. "You might have faked it damned well twenty years ago, but you _know _you can't do that know. I know you and your guilt. You'd let something slip."

"Tim, come on…" hearing that was getting kind of old.

"You didn't tell Elliot and there was no way in hell Nathan was ever going to know," Tim pressed. "I said, even back then, that they should know, I don't know why you needed to protect that heartless manipulative psychotic bitch, but you did. Now you're risking letting Nathan know, I say that's good, but I know _you_, you still don't want to tell them."

"I don't," Lisa argued calmly. "I know the ramifications it would cause if I let anything slip with Nathan _or _Elliot. I wouldn't hurt him like that and I won't let it happen now that Elliot's in such a vulnerable position. I wouldn't do that to them."

She wouldn't do this and that to them, they wouldn't do this and that to her. Tim was getting tired of the lies, but here she was, trying not to let any of them make any stupid mistakes. They only had each other, that was the reality of it all, and they were gambling it away with lies that were supposed to be good for them. Other than secrets, lies were another thing Tim disliked terribly.

Lisa's lies, her secrets, Tim could understand, no problem, what she didn't get was Elliot and Nathan. They both schemed and plotted to make Lisa come home was stupid, hiding from her that her own father was dying—a father she long ago considered dead—was another thing.

As far as Tim knew, Lisa had moved on, long ago accepted that Damien had died after Elisabeth, that he'd been in her casket with her as they lowered it to the ground on that Spring day. The man he'd become was someone no one could truly recognize and Lisa, even as pure, sweet and still innocent _Elise_ accepted that the moment he walked in with his new bride.

Tim shook her head. What she wouldn't give to tell Lisa the truth she needed to hear.

"That's all well and good, darling, but you have to know," Tim's eyes softened. "Someday, they're bound to know…secrets like this don't always stay secret. You should have told Nathan, or at the very least, Elliot."

"What I should and shouldn't have done shouldn't matter _now_," Lisa said, almost harshly as her eyes hardened, making Tim proud that she had toughened up.

Back then, she'd always thought Elise was too nice and too innocent for her own good and her mother's death had done at least something good for her. Elise just had to grow up and toughen up and leaving home was one of the best things she ever did.

Leaving and being on her own had done her good, letting her grow up to be the woman she was supposed to be. Tim knew, had she stayed, she would have ended up like some of the people they grew up with, maybe like Nathan—too proper, too ashamed to make a stand, too less of everything. Tim was proud she was the woman she was now, _Lisa Cuddy_ was someone she could admire, someone she knew who could do well for herself.

"What do you want to do then?" Tim asked, daring her. She needed it. Lisa had become somewhat of a competitive character, always ready for a challenge, never backing down—things Elise wouldn't have done herself.

"I'm going back, maybe tomorrow," she said, sounding quite sure of herself. "I need to see Elliot, I need to be with him. Maybe I can convince him to stay with me, Princeton should be better than New York and the crowds. My hospital can take care of him. The business would have to take a backseat, I don't give a damn what…_Damien_ thinks."

It was still hard for her to call her own father by his name, Tim understood and could sympathize.

"You'll take him in? Here?" Tim asked.

"My hospital is more than capable, if he's giving up, the least…" she faltered, but almost immediately composed herself faster than Tim knew she could. "I can do is take care of him and make him comfortable, I have all the confidence in Dr. Wilson. I'm willing to move heaven and hell for this, Tim, you know it."

Tim almost shook her head, knowing Lisa wouldn't be singing that tune soon enough. It was almost laughable, the thought of Damien Foxworth coming to Princeton and checking into some small hospital, even one as well known and well respected as Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital—to him, Jersey was Jersey, New York was New York, ever the snob he'd become.

And if it wasn't so tragic and irksome, the image of Lisa working herself to her death saving _Damien Foxworth_, she would have laughed. That'll be the goddamned day.

Tim would pull the plugs and burn all the oxygen bags, medicines and any type of cure gladly and she'd drag Lisa to stand next to her while she did it. They'd probably dance around the fire in fiery red dresses and sing to the top of their lungs some ancient _I hope you rot in hell _song.

"Of course," Tim gritted out. It almost hurt her teeth saying those lies.

Lying by omission was still lying—that sounded like crap, but it was so true and so right.

"Will you…" Lisa started and Tim knew what she was going to say only she _wanted _to _hear_ her say it so she didn't stop her. "Will you come with me?"

Somewhere, in the back of her heard, a shiver of dread covered in ice whispered to her that it may be the very last time she would hear Lisa say those words. But she didn't dare think about that—it hurt too much.

"Where else would I be?" Tim answered with a smile. "You got me, I got you. Cheesy and damaging as that may sound…"

Lisa chuckled dryly. "Thank you."

"But of course," Tim said, taking the seat in front of her desk. "I'll be driving my new baby that you almost crashed _and _we're still going out tonight…"

"Tonight," Lisa nodded. "You're serious about that club thing, aren't you?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Tim said dismissively. "I've got to do some research while my idiot staff runs my projects to the ground. Morons, really, but what can I do?" She wrinkled her nose. "It's hard to find good help these days," she added, snobbishly.

"So the theatre thing is working out then?" Lisa asked casually as she reached for a pile of papers next to her, pen in hand, obviously ready to work despite the invasion. Typical Lisa, Tim understood, of course.

"Yes, _for now_," Tim said, sighing.

"Yes, for now," Lisa said, looking up, her eyes merry and her nose wrinkling. "When did I hear that before?" She pretended to think. "Oh, right when you went to Juilliard with that promise of—what, again? Yeah, being a musician then after that, law school then passing the board then being a lawyer for how long? Yeah, about two and a half years before you decided you were already bored so went into fashion designing then after that the whole photography thing after that—"

"Oh, would you stop?" Tim scoffed, reminded once more of the things she'd dabbled on in the past. "The music thing was just not the same without you and the law thing was a total bore although it had its thrills that I kicked Stinky Binky's ass. And the fashion world had its thrills, but darling, I could have strangled those stupid models!" She rolled her eyes, remembering clearly some of the known stick figures she'd worked with.

There was Naomi, who'd pissed her off enough and had her cut from her show—she hadn't had a phone launched at her, but the 'beauty' hadn't taken the rejection well though hadn't fought her _much_ on it. Of course, after that, there was Tyra who was a bit eccentric for her taste, especially when she returned after Christmas then there was this and that until Tim got tired of the business.

Her line made its big break—though she wouldn't deny her family name helped a lot with that—and she'd done some wonderful shows that pleased the bitchy critics enough to say she had style and her clothes were worth wearing by the big names.

"Spoiled, stupid little stick figures with poofy lips who only care about themselves," she spat and recited in verbatim, making the doctor laugh again as she imitated one very memorable character in a cartoon movie she'd forced Lisa to sit and watch with her a few years prior.

It was a well kept secret between the two of them that Tim actually enjoyed watching cartoons. One of her favorites was The Incredibles, a movie that even Lisa had a copy of at home, given of course by Tim herself "to keep in handy" whenever Tim decided to pop in unannounced.

"Edna Mode," Lisa said, laughing still. "Did you watch it again before coming here?"

"Wish I did," Tim pouted, "But you sounded desperate for me so, you owe me a movie night."

"Sure," Lisa smiled. "I even got a copy of Monsters, Inc. for you at my place."

"Oh, Sully! I _love _him! Man," Tim said, grinning. "We so should have kids. The little brats would be fun to brainwash with cartoons and at least we'd have more reasons to buy DVDs of them, huh?"

And then there was her foot, in her mouth before she could stop herself. She would have stopped, but she remembered quickly _she wasn't supposed to know_ about the baby or any plans regarding kids. The last she'd ever heard about kids was when she was in Italy and Lisa confided to her on the phone that she'd quit the In Vitro Fertilization Treatments and altogether trying for a child of her own.

It was one of those moments that almost had her bolting for New Jersey, but Lisa had stopped her, telling her in that too eerie voice that she was fine and good, that she'd gotten her confirmation that day that she wasn't probably going to be fit as a mother. Of course, Tim had persisted and asked why and how she got her confirmation, but Lisa had just brushed her off, telling her it was about a patient she'd had, a young girl who almost went through an unnecessary amputation procedure.

For a while, Tim kept asking about it but, in her rare moments, Lisa had coldly warned her to either drop it or not talk at all. Tim decided she would know, in time, if Lisa would ever tell her, guessing it was one of those sensitive subjects that hurt too much to even mention to her sister.

That day she'd been banned from coming to New Jersey and possibly, the United State of America, by Lisa, threatening her not to come running for nothing. She had her life to live, Lisa had her own and she was okay so Tim stayed away.

And now she wondered if Lisa was going to admit to her what she was hiding. She didn't know whether she wanted to hear or not. Of course, if it'd help, she would, but if it would render her useless then she didn't want to know, not right now, at least.

Being useless to Lisa was one of the things Tim did not like feeling. She hated it.

Tim watched the light in Lisa's eyes flicker, faltering uncharacteristically and the laugh died down from her lips, though the corners stayed up. "Yeah," she said, her tone changing almost imperceptibly that if she didn't know her as well as she did she wouldn't have noticed it. "It would make buying them and having a collection a little less weird."

Tim let out a chuckle, always matching her step by step, never missing a beat, "Less chances of being accused of being a pedophile."

Lisa nodded before getting back to the papers in front of her. They both knew there was something there that stopped the discussion cold, but they were ignoring it. Time would reveal but for now, Tim would let the dance continue.

Maybe.

"Hey, Lee?" Tim said, crossing an arm across her body and letting her elbow rest on the arm of her seat, a finger hooking into a glossy lock of her with an air of nonchalance.

"Mhmm?" she didn't look up, her Mont Blanc—a gift from Tim—moving rapidly against the paper in almost inaudible scratching. A sure sign she didn't want her eyes to be read, knowing they were usually her biggest tells.

"You'd tell me, right?" Tim said carefully. She watched the pen stop, but her head didn't move.

"Tell you what?" she looked frozen, as if she wasn't even breathing.

_Shit. That meant it was something…big._

Tim shrugged one shoulder though she knew she couldn't be seen by her. "If there's anything wrong…or if something's bothering you. You'd tell me, right?"

Her head moved, revealing a smiling face that almost seemed real. "Of course, Tim, you know I tell you everything…just like you tell me everything."

Lisa was getting good at faking, but Tim almost didn't immediately notice as her heart skipped a beat and her lips threatened to twitch.

She smiled, faltering a little and forced herself to nod convincingly though she knew it would be useless now. "Of course…"

Yes, it was useless, no matter what she does or says it would be useless.

Lisa had hidden a message underneath her words.

A message she knew Tim would immediately understand.

Lisa _knew_.

-o0o-

"Take it."

Wilson eyed the phone that had been shoved in his face. "No, House, I'm not…"

"Do it or if Cuddy's body turns up hacked into pieces because you let some psycho-killer get to her, I'll tell everyone it's your fault," House threatened, his cane high in the air.

"Doctor Murder," Lucas said, grinning from the couch where he'd moved lazily. "Cool."

Wilson stared at House who stood over him. "House…"

The diagnostician rolled his eyes and put the call on speaker phone, letting the ringing echo off the otherwise silent office. "Answer it or I _will _call up Cuddy and tell her you slept with your patient a few years back. That was a long time ago, but can you imagine the look on her face?"

Wilson glared at the fiend in front of him as the ringing ended with, "Atherton Memorial, this is Dr. William Lang's office, this is Gina. How can I help you?"

House's eyes bored into his, promising _a lot_ of terrible things. "Yes, hello, this is Dr. James Wilson from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I was wondering if I could inquire about a patient of Dr. Lang's who came to me yesterday for a consult?"

"Good morning, Dr. Wilson," Gina greeted. "May I have the patient's name? I can try and check for a file here right now."

Wilson looked at House who motioned with his cane, "Elliot Winslow."

"Hold on," Gina said, pausing. It took only moments before she began speaking again, "I'm sorry, Dr. Wilson, we don't have a patient under that name in any of our files."

House pumped a fist into the air and Lucas shook his head, but Wilson persisted. "Oh, are you sure? Maybe you can check again?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Wilson," Gina said apologetically. "We really don't have a patient under that name."

"Okay," Wilson said, nodding. "Is Dr. Lang in? I'd like to speak to him if I could."

"I'll check," Gina said and again, it only took moments. "Yes, Dr. Wilson, he's in. Please wait while I transfer your call."

"Thank you for your help, Gina," Wilson said, causing House to roll his eyes.

"You're welcome, Dr. Wilson," the woman said politely. "Have a good day."

It didn't take long for the next line to pick up, "This is Dr. Lang."

"Uh, Dr. Lang, this is James Wilson, I don't know if you remember me, but—"

"Dr. James Wilson…from McGill?"

"Yes, yes, it's me," Wilson stammered, an irrepressible smile appearing on his boyish features.

"Oh, yes, yes, I remember," came a hearty chuckle. "I heard you're in Princeton-Plainsboro with the remarkable Dr. Lisa Cuddy."

House scowled at Wilson, motioning for him to hurry up.

"Yes, that's right, I'm quite surprised you remember me, to be honest, Dr. Lang," Wilson admitted sheepishly.

"It's Billy, son. And I tend to keep track of some noted students," Billy said through the phone. "I've read quite a lot of your articles, especially of that one with the shrinking tumor—excellent findings, James, excellent work."

Wilson's face lit up at the acknowledgement. "Thank you, docto—_Billy_. I read some of yours as well, I've been keeping track of your drug trials."

"Well, here at Atherton we try," Billy said modestly. "So, what can I help you with? I'm hoping you're not out for a job here—I've heard some great things about Dr. Cuddy and that teaching hospital of hers."

"Oh, Dr. Cuddy is a great boss, don't doubt that," Wilson said, grinning at House who made gagging motions with his finger and mouth. "Actually, I was hoping to find out a patient of yours? He came in yesterday for a consult with me after letting me know he's thinking about relocating here to New Jersey."

"Ah, yes, Gina mentioned that," Billy said.

"A patient with Lung Cancer by the name of Elliot Winslow…?"

"I've checked with my own files," Billy answered. "I'm sorry, James, I don't believe I have a patient by that name, perhaps you're mistaken…?"

Wilson hung his head, "Maybe, I think I'll have to check with him again."

"Yes, of course," Billy said. "You can call again if you find that patient with the right information."

"Of course," Wilson nodded. "Thank you for your time."

"It was nice hearing from you again, Dr. Wilson," Billy said warmly. "Do send Dr. Lisa Cuddy my greetings? I met her once at a conference in Quebec. Enchanting woman, I must say. Lucky are you, working under her."

Wilson smiled, "Yes, I am. Thank you, Dr. Lang. Happy holidays."

"You too, James," Billy said. "Goodbye."

The rubber tip of House's cane descended with a tap on the cradle, cutting the line immediately. Wilson gave House a reproachful look. "You know I use this phone, right? Your germ-filled cane is transferring crap on my receiver."

"That sounded _dirty_," House said sarcastically. "And it's not as if you're a germophobe, _Dr. Wilson_. Sheesh."

"Well that concludes our theory," Lucas interrupted. "Your guy is a liar."

"Yes, congratulations on your findings, Detective Obvious," House said sarcastically. "Apart from that ego-enhancing phone call from Dr. Old Fart, we've got Mr. Charming as Mr. Liar now." He turned to Wilson, "Who wants to tell Cuddy?"

"I think I can do that," Wilson said. "God knows how you'll go by it…"

"Yeah, I know," House said, grinning lecherously. "How are you going to tell your _boss_ that there's a hundred year old Super Oncologist with a Viagra addiction that he's lusting for her all the way to Manhattan after a quick _M-E-A-T _and greet in Canada?"

Wilson's face crumpled, "I meant about the non-existent brother, House."

"But of course, you'll be telling her about Dr. Dirty Old Man about the greeting," House said, twirling his cane nonchalantly.

"Yes, of course," Wilson said, nodding.

"Yeah, and I'm _sure _you'll dissuade her from meeting with the creeper again because he's a liar and possible axe murderer out to get her," House continued.

"Not in such words, but yes," Wilson said, knowing he was probably walking into a trap.

"And _of course_, she'll argue with you and tell you there must be some mistake on Old Fart's office and then _of course _you can back up your claims because you," he pointed at Wilson with his cane. "Hired _him_," he pointed at the grinning Lucas. "To do some digging about the gentle creep."

"Y-yes," Wilson said, wondering what the point was with the play by play.

"And _how _do you think she's going to react to that?" House asked. "Dragging up ole' snitch here and using company time to get on your little escapade to protect her hot bod and untouched, un-hacked into pieces virtue?" He stopped. "Or is it hot virtue and untouched, un-hacked into pieces bod…? Whatever."

Wilson opened his mouth and then an image of a quite ferocious and thoroughly rattled Cuddy came to mind. "Well…" he stammered. "I won't tell her _everything_, but I'll warn her of the liar, of course, it's only the right thing to do…"

"Yeah, I'm sure she won't get so mad if you say you did it for her because you care and stuff," Lucas said, nodding along.

"Yeah, but what about when she finds out you…" House thought for a moment. "I don't know, went snooping around because you're jealous?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, "You mean because _you're _jealous."

"Right on," Lucas said, tapping his chest twice with a closed fist then proceeding to make a 'peace' sign. "All for love, dude."

"Hey, Lennon, zip it," House snarled. "And yeah, Jimmy, it's not like I was the one kissing her yesterday in my office."

"What?" Lucas asked, looking at Wilson. "Uncool."

"What?" Wilson asked. "She was thanking me! She kissed _me._"

"Don't anyone of you watch after school specials? There's a guys rule just like girls," Lucas explained. "No touching other brother's girl."

"I _didn't_," Wilson stressed. "Lisa and I are just friends. And can we please stay on the subject here?" He turned to House. "If you want to tell her yourself, by all means, do. It's about time you did something good to her other than kissing her then _leaving_."

"Wait, what?" Lucas asked, grinning. "You kissed her then ran away? Man, you've got issues."

"I did not run away," House snapped. "She was bawling like a baby and went bitchy—I had to do something to shut her up."

"Right, and shoving your tongue down her throat worked," Wilson said dryly then turned to the private investigator. "He hasn't done anything since."

"Oh, yeah, that's romantic, Romeo," Lucas remarked. "No wonder you get all the babes. Boy's got game, clearly."

House glared at them both as the two grinned at each other to annoy him more. Wilson was pleasantly surprised to be getting along with the PI, seeing an ally was a pleasant view as opposed to House's usual biting sarcasm and oppositions.

"Eh," Lucas shrugged, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling as he stretched his arms over his head. "Could have been worst…"

Wilson shrugged. "Knowing House, yeah, you have a point."

"Wow, you two are just _made _for each other, huh?" House groused grumpily as he got up. "Snitch, you go get more information. Wilson, go shave off some kid's head—the quicker it happens, the quicker they deal they're bald. I've got a meeting with the She-Beast."

Limping out of the room and loudly slamming the door behind him, Wilson's left eye slipped closed as the bang reverberated off the walls. Lucas shook his head, an amused smile on his face. Wilson looked at Lucas, "So you're the guy?"

"Yes," Lucas said, nodding. "And you're Wilson."

"Pretty much," Wilson shrugged. "Thanks for coming by the way."

"Cool," Lucas nodded. "I'll give you the bill later."

Wilson nodded, "Good." He folded his hands in front of him, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"I'd say yes, but I think you'd ask me anyway," Lucas said knowingly. "Shoot, doc."

"You…uh, you went out with Lisa, right?" Wilson asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"Once," Lucas said nonchalantly. "We talked. She's fun to be around despite the whole Administrator look she likes strutting with." He shrugged. "You went out with her too."

"Oh, I-I…" Wilson stammered. "How do you know about that?" He shook his head, "Right, your job. We went out, just a few times, but it was just between friends. I wouldn't…wouldn't do something like that to House."

"Wow," Lucas nodded, his eyes twinkling in almost the same paleness as Cuddy's eyes. "I really didn't know, I just guessed, but yeah, I believe you."

"I was just wondering," Wilson said, changing the subject and hiding his unease. "About, you know, your—er, your intentions with Lisa? Are you still…attracted to her?"

Lucas stared at him, "Yes."

"Oh," Wilson said, his eyes widening. No, this was a bad, bad thing.

"I'd be dead not to," Lucas continued smoothly. "Have you _seen _her, Dr. Wilson? Those legs? Those eyes? That smile?"

Wilson shifted in his seat, "Er, yeah…"

"I like her," Lucas admitted. "I liked her a lot, honestly, but when we went out…it was more really about House than her and me and I don't want to shove myself at something or someone who had eyes for…someone else."

The Oncologist's eyes met the Private Investigators, an understanding and alliance forming strongly and fast. They were both in this game, their end game most probably the same and without words, they were agreeing to working together when opportunity will allow them.

"He's really bothered, isn't he?" Lucas didn't have to specify who, breaking the silence. "By this whole liar weird dude thing…"

Wilson watched the closed door quietly. "Yeah, but it's House. Everything bothers him when it comes to Cuddy." He shrugged, "He would never admit it but he's quite protective of her. I don't know, but I'm guessing that's his own unique way of showing his…feelings."

"Yeah, I guess," Lucas grinned. "I think I'll stick around for a bit." He cocked his head at the closed door. "This should be fun."

-o0o-

Brenda watched Nathan Winslow slip out of the Dean of Medicine's office and head straight out the Clinic doors. By the way he moved, she didn't detect any obvious sign of distress so she hoped things went well with Cuddy.

Looking around the now calm Clinic with at least five persons left in the waiting area, she decided it was time for her to have a short break. Eyeing the stack of folders on the stand, she nodded at Nurse Catherine who was busy with a file. She grabbed one she'd already finished with, "Hey, Cat, I'm going to need Dr. Cuddy with this patient file, it was her patient, came back."

"Hm," Nurse Catherine hummed. "Drugs?"

Brenda shrugged, "Who knows? You mind taking over for a bit?"

"Rent a bulldog, at your service," the nurse said, grinning. "Go ahead, now that the place is quiet."

"Thank God for small favors," Brenda said as she walked towards the Dean of Medicine's glass doors. "Thanks."

Heading to the doors, she looked in, her eyes weaving through the glass panels of the other pair of doors in between. She quirked an eyebrow when she saw a recognizable woman in black. Clutching the folder to her chest, she made her way over to the busy assistant.

"Hey Code," she chirped, laying the folder on the table.

"Code?" the young woman asked, grinning. "I like the sound of that."

"Good, I always love saving letters," Brenda said cheekily. "The Clinic is now quiet. Thank goodness. I almost killed a kid with my bare hands."

"Just one kid? It's a good day then," Cody remarked, placing her forearms on the edge of her desk. "File for Dr. Cuddy?"

"No, just a ruse," Brenda admitted. "Just being me, asking about the gorgeous visitor. I saw him leave. Everything okay?"

Cody shrugged, "Yeah, but that woman Dr. Cuddy arrived with? She was in there the whole time he was. They talked for a bit."

"Oh? They know each other?" Brenda asked.

"I don't know, but they were talking for a bit then that woman went into the bathroom for a while," Cody said, unsure. "But Dr. Cuddy and Mr. Winslow were talking…I don't know, the body language just seemed…off."

Brenda looked back at the Clinic, thankful it was still calm. She leaned closer, "What do you mean exactly when you say 'off'?"

"Well," Cody thought for a moment, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. "There were times she looked sad, you know, then there were times she looked stressed and upset. And the guy was just…I don't know, he looked like he was sad too, like he wanted to comfort her or something…"

"Oh…" Brenda drawled out, glancing into the office. "So the woman?"

Cody glanced behind her, "She looked really angry for a bit then Dr. Cuddy said some things and then they calmed, even Mr. Winslow. I don't know, Bren, I wasn't snooping. I'm trying not to, it just feels bad."

"Making sure your boss hasn't been turned into fillet mignon isn't a bad thing," Brenda said, consoling the obviously disturbed girl. Ever the innocent—Brenda concluded she needed a bit of corrupting. She would take care of that, in due time.

Cody sighed, "But it did look…weird. They were all talking, sometimes they looked like they were arguing and Dr. Cuddy was avoiding Mr. Winslow who was obviously trying to get closer."

Brenda's eyes lightened up, "Ah, yes! Definitely a score! Whoot-whoot!"

"Bren, shhh!" Cody waved at her. "Dr. Cuddy and…Tim are still in there."

"Yes, I can see," Brenda said, watching as the women talked, seeing that even Cuddy looked somewhat stressed. "I think my patient needs a consult."

Cody nodded, "If that doesn't work, hand her this." She produced a pink slip.

"House?"

"Surprisingly, no," Cody said. "His dancer patient is keeping his team on their toes, so to speak."

Brenda reached for the paper, "Eckley? What did he do this time?"

"Nurse Pam found him smoking with some orderlies on the clock," Cody informed, her nose wrinkling. "One of his patients almost died."

"This should be fun," Brenda said, grinning as she turned with a graceful sway in her shapeless scrubs. "I'll try to grab some info, wait for me."

Cody grinned, "Okay."

"Bet you're happy you're not the one getting dirty," Brenda teased as she reached the doors.

Cody waved, "I'm too young to die."

"And I'm not?" Brenda knocked softly, watching the two women who were seemingly lost in their conversation, staring at each other.

"Come in," was the muffled yet expected reply.

Brenda waved slightly before coming in, "Good morning, Dr. Cuddy and…"

"Tim," the woman said, turning away slightly and taking a seat on the pristine white couch.

Cuddy shook her head slightly before smiling at Brenda, "What can I do for you today?"

"I have a patient file, but I think we can take care of it," Brenda said. "But I did come here for another reason. We have another complaint…"

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "House."

"No, actually," Brenda said, grinning mischievously. "Dr. Joseph Eckley."

Cuddy's eyes hardened at the name, obviously recalling her run in with the young pompous doctor who obviously lacked the instinct of self-preservation. It was a story everyone loved to talk about over and over, no matter how long ago it was. Cuddy had caught Eckley in action inside the Sleep Lab with a young nurse. To say that Cuddy had been furious would have been a severe understatement and the nurse had subsequently left and the Dean left the not so sorry doctor one last warning before she kicked his ass on to the curb.

Everyone was waiting for that to happen and today might just be it.

"What did the idiot do now?" Cuddy actually snarled.

"Oh, no play nice?" Tim asked from her seat. "Bad, bad, _bad _Lisa…"

"Tim, butt out," Cuddy said before turning her focus solely on Brenda. "What did he do this time?"

Brenda handed her the paper and Cuddy swiped it, reading. "Son of a—"

"Language, children," Tim chanted patronizingly, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, her chin cradled in one hand, the other draped under her chest.

"Shut up, Tim," Cuddy snapped, obviously beyond irritated now. "Goddamned idiot just can't do his job! That's it, he's out of here."

Brenda nodded, "Would you like me to tell Cody to call in the board for an emergency meeting?"

"Yes," Cuddy said, running her hands through her wavy hair. "Yes, call them in _now_. I am at the end of my rope with Eckley. Damn it. Call in Nurse Pam Isle as well. I'd like her statement."

Brenda nodded, "I'll get right on it."

She turned, smiling slightly at the seemingly bored woman on the couch while Cuddy went back to her desk, muttering about wanting to kill her own employee. The woman smiled at her, waving with the tips of her fingers before staring at Cuddy.

Shrugging, Brenda headed out before stopping by the doors. "Oh, and Dr. Cuddy, about Mr. Winslow…"

"He's still deciding, he needs to talk to his brother first," Cuddy informed swiftly.

Brenda could see in her eyes it was not an open subject. She nodded, "Will you be joining us for lunch today?"

"I'll…"

"She can't," Tim said from her spot. "I mean, I'm sure lunch will be charming with you, but I haven't been in town in a while. I'd like to see my sister. God knows she works too much to visit me herself."

Brenda glanced at Cuddy, smiling. "Oh, okay, that's good. Family is important, of course, you two have a nice lunch. Dr. Cuddy, I'll inform Cody about your meeting and I'll check on Dr. House's Clinic hours today. You won't have anything to worry about."

Cuddy smiled appreciatively, "Thank you Brenda. That would be great."

"Good day, Dr. Cuddy."

"You too, Nurse Previn."

-o0o-

Tapping the tip of his cane on the ground, House gritted his teeth as he willed the elevators to arrive. He'd stormed out, quite loudly and now he hoped not either of them would go out. His thoughts were loud enough for him to listen to their lectures and stupid yacking to pay attention and focus on anything.

A lot of things seemed to bother him and now that Lucas and the Wonder Boy Oncologist that went by the name of Wilson were busy making it harder instead of helping him, it was riding on the last of his nerves.

Of course he needed to tell Cuddy about the lying leech that was crawling around her hospital, making a fool of her and telling her some bull about a non-existent brother. Cuddy needed to know, he would tell her if only just to see her face.

He was right and he wanted nothing more than for her to see _he was right_.

That was all.

He just needed to be right.

House did not care about Lisa Cuddy, not at all. She was all grown up—in every sense of the word—and she can take care of herself perfectly.

Besides, the last thing he needed was a dead boss. A dead left hand can't really sign pay checks now, right? And what about the fun parts of her, top and bottom? Losing that would be such a shame, of course. Who would he argue with if she was gone? No, the death of Lisa Cuddy was simply not acceptable.

A nagging voice that was identical to Wilson's jumped in again, _Now you're being morbid_.

But then again, if Nathan whatshisname did turn out into an axe murderer then he was being real. It would be an eerily predicted prophecy, but it would be real.

The best thing to do was tell her, of course, tell her she had _another _bastard leech lurking around her environment, possibly getting ready to eat her and feed her to the fish.

_He was losing it. For real, this time._

It always frustrated House how Cuddy always managed to have bastards and losers and psychos swimming around her, as if she was some sort of magnet for all the misfits and anomalies in the world. Like a walking accident or some potential tragedy. Lisa Cuddy was one hell of a screwed up person.

Stupid men, losers, misers, sleazebags and nut jobs—Cuddy has them all in her history and now. House, of course, was included, so was the Wonder Boy Wilson and PI Lucas. House didn't care about her, it was just an investigation of her so called murder would be too much on his plate.

His mind was moving to the more bizarre excuses, but of course, shhh…it's not exactly that.

_Of course_.

Truth was, he was getting annoyed with all this loser watch he was doing. Why was he always the one who had to look out for her? Why couldn't she just pick a good guy who actually deserved her? Er, not that he would _know_ what she deserved. That would be a girl thing and Greg House was anything but.

He's been fending off those losers and sleaze balls for some time now and usually, it always ended with her scowling or screaming at him. Sometimes, he wondered if she _wanted_ to end up with a loser…although he didn't see her pathetic or desperate enough for that. There had to be something. Ever the naïve Cuddy.

He'd stop barging into her brain-melting bore of dates _if _she actually found a good guy.

So far, she wasn't exactly batting a thousand, Liar Cancer Fake not yet included.

This woman was going to be the death of him.

Not that he cares—no, no, no. He just…well, he's listed enough explanations about why he was doing what he was doing.

_Ten precious brain cells died for that thought, seventy-plus more for those explanations._

There were more, but he shrugged them off as he slid into the thankfully empty elevators.

_Lisa Cuddy was just slipping out of Professor Mark Claude's lecture room when she collided against something soft and solid, causing her to drop her papers and pen. "Sorry," she muttered, bending down to pick up her things only to have another pair of hands reach for them._

"_Thanks," she said only to look up and see Greg House grinning down at her. "Oh, it's you."_

"_Yeah, hello, Fetus," he said, waving a paper at her. "Looks like Claude gave you an A."_

"_Yeah, looks like he did," Lisa said, grabbing the paper from him. She tucked her things into her bag before turning the other way and walking off._

_House's grin faded as the girl with her grade walked away. "Wh—Hey!"_

"_What?" she asked, turning to face him._

"_We had a deal," he said, walking towards her in three quick strides. "I get you the A, I get you for one whole weekend."_

"_Sorry," she shrugged. "I'm busy tomorrow. Maybe next week."_

"_Busy?" he asked, keeping up with her as she began to walk down the long hallway. "You mean that party at Phi Gamma Rho again?"_

_She stopped, "Yes, actually. Someone invited me."_

"_Ah," House nodded, running his hands through his messy hair. "Someone invited you…"_

_Lisa had been too busy, observing people in the corner of her eye to answer so he went on._

_He didn't notice it, but Lisa did as other girls watched them as they walked down the hall, their eyes glued on him then floating on to her in a way, she guessed, that was supposed to make her cringe and hide her tail between her legs. No such luck though, she just didn't give a fuck._

"_Would that somebody be Beau the beautiful moron?" House asked nonchalantly._

_Lisa grinned. "Yes, Greg, Beau Tyler, that guy I was dancing with."_

"_You're dumping me for that rat?" House asked, surprised and more than a little irked._

"_I am not dumping you, not like I could anyway," she said. "We're not in any sort of relationship, thank God for small favors…"_

"_I cancelled a trip to Vancouver with some friends so I can have you all weekend and now you're dumping me for that Trust Fund stool pigeon? You're kidding, right?"_

"_Nope," she said, chuckling. "It's not like I knew Claude would hand in our papers early so when Beau invited me, I said yes. Seems I made quite an impression with him when we met at the party…"_

"_I'll have to agree," House nodded. "Your ass must still be burning in his memory. Did I mention you have a fantastic ass to go with your sweater meat?"_

_She laughed, "And here I thought you meant it when you said you didn't get jealous."_

"_I don't," House said, shrugging. "I just think it's a bit stupid for you to trade one whole weekend with _me_ and spend you Friday night with a flatulent pig like him."_

_Lisa laughed again, "You're mean."_

"_And you're too hot for him," he answered. "Even for an undergrad. Look, you're aiming for medicine, right?" he asked, grabbing her arm lightly and turning her to face him._

"_Yeah, what's it to you?" she asked, shrugging his hand off._

"_Well, I _am _Greg House," he said with as much arrogance as he could muster. "I can teach you things they don't teach in this Ann Arbor dump. I'll get you more A's than anyone has ever gotten on a hardass sadist like Claude. Beau is a nitwit who has daddy sending him money in a dump like this because no other University would take him."_

"_What's your point again?" she asked, shifting from one foot to the other. "I have a class in, I think, seven minutes."_

"_Beau is a Trust Fund sleaze," House said, slipping his hand around her waist, pulling her close. "I'm the legend of UMich, I'm practically a god around here. Being seen with _me_ has to be so much better than to be seen with him. Being seen with be, having me study with you can get you to places farther than you can imagine."_

"_My, my, who knew you were so modest?" she teased naughtily, thrilling him in the process that she didn't seem to mind being held so close._

"_Come on, Cuddy," he urged, his hand tracing along her back. "Come out with me. We'll paint the town red and not give a fuck. And maybe later actually fu—"_

"_I'm sorry," she said though she didn't mean it. "Beau did invite me, it would be rude to just dump him like that."_

"_And you think breaking our deal isn't, you little trouble maker?" he asked, grinning._

"_I am not," she said. "You never specified a date which meant it could be any weekend and it just so happens I'm not free on Friday night which would totally screw up the whole weekend deal."_

_He looked at her, holding her closer, "I'm impressed with you, Fetus. You can talk your way out of things…" he smiled. "Makes me want you more, actually."_

"_Well, too bad," she said though she didn't move from her spot. She was sure the girls around were mentally beating the crap out of her now. "You can't have me."_

"_I say I can," he dared. "And I will."_

_Lisa could feel his breath on her face; that was how close he was holding her. She licked her bottom lip, letting her teeth graze them before speaking, leaning closer to him so her lips went past his and stopped near his left ear._

"_Are you sure about that?" she whispered silkily, letting a breath tickle his skin. "Really, I'm just a girl who likes having fun, but seeing you get worked up like this, makes me think..." she let her hand fall on to his cheek in a soft touch. "Do you hate it when someone's got their hands on me and they aren't yours, Greg House?"_

_He swallowed tightly, his nose tickled by the unique scent in her long curly hair. The way she'd said his name…he could have had a heart attack right there and died happy._

"_I'm sorry, Greg," she said, pulling back slightly so her eyes were back on his, sounding completely innocent now and not at all whispery and alluring as just a few sentences ago. "I'm not your type and you're not mine. Thanks for the A, but I've got a class to get to."_

"_You just cost me a trip to Vancouver, free of charge," he grumbled, trying to get his bearings back with the alluring undergrad in his arms._

_She smiled, "I'll buy you a ticket someday and pay you back."_

"_Dump the sleaze and go out with me, you won't have to spend a dime," he said, his eyes meeting hers and he could have sworn he felt a jolt of electricity._

"_Sorry, Greg," she said, pouting her lips in a way that almost had him kissing her right then and there. "But you'll have to make do without me."_

_Lisa leaned back in, looking innocent and unsure, as if she was going to kiss him and he waited, knowing he didn't want to scare her off by finishing the move. He would wait for her lips to touch his right then and there in the middle of the hallway._

_He watched, enticed and quite deeply under her spell now._

"_I have to get to class," she whispered and suddenly pulled back._

_She slipped out of his hold and walked away before he could gather his wits and say something or do anything. He stood there, dazed, watching a seventeen-year-old walk away from him, her hips swaying, taunting him again in a tight pair of jeans, her long black curly hair swaying in taunting strands, small knapsack hanging on one shoulder, swinging with her movements._

_Damn it._

_He wondered what just happened. Did an undergrad just leave him speechless? Did she almost kiss him? Was she really planning to kiss him?_

_Damn it._

_The damn _kid_ was a _tease_._

_Turning, a little miffed a girl had gotten the best of him and actually got him speechless, Greg House was more than determined to take a piece of Lisa Cuddy for himself. If he couldn't have all of her, he would take what she would give, simple as that._

_Lisa Cuddy was exactly his type and he was sure as hell, he was hers as well._

_He just needed to make her see that._

_But first he needed to weed out what party the Trust Fund Morons House had planned for the week's Friday night bash._

_Suddenly, his Friday night just got filled and Michigan looked much more fun than Canada._

-o0o-

"We're having lunch together, don't worry," Cuddy murmured from her position as she placed the phone back in its cradle, having received a call from one of the Board Members, Dr. Andrea Matthews, confirming that they were all available for a meeting after lunch. Concerns have been brought to the board regard Dr. Joseph Eckley and Cuddy was sure they were going to agree it was time to let the young resident go.

The little rat didn't deserve to be a doctor and that was what she honestly thought. Self-centered and average less than half the time, Cuddy knew she could do so well without him on her staff. His loss was hardly something to bat an eyelash about.

"So you caught the little twerp popping a joint, just can his ass and toss his locker," Tim moaned, ever in her Audrey Hepburn mode. She hated actresses, but she was as dramatic as they came. "God, Lee, you're getting bitchy over nothing, it's total mindfuck."

"You know," Cuddy said, eyes on her computer screen. "You always have such a lovely way with words, it's quite a gift."

"Oh, yeah, wound the about to be abandoned best friend," Tim said and Cuddy knew she was pouting without even looking at her. "How much do I have to pay this place to run itself?"

"If you ever find out, let me know," Cuddy said and her fingers began to move across the keyboards, the soft click-click filling the gaps of the conversation. "So, are you really donating?"

"Well," Tim drawled. "I haven't done a good deed in a while and this is a Catholic as it goes, I think—give a check, save yourself!"

"I'm glad you find the light of charity," Cuddy said sarcastically. "And you're not even remotely religious. How do you know about how Catholics work?"

"Meh," Tim shrugged. "I just made that up…although I have studied a few of those people and the way they work. I tried something way back then, didn't work out."

"You tried something?" Cuddy asked, her fingers stopping frozen over the keys as she stared at her. "God, tell me you didn't try to join a monastery?"

Tim laughed manically, tossing her hair and head back. "Fuck, Lee, I'm crazy bored, but it doesn't mean I'm about to Pope it out!" She laughed harder, a loud round boisterous sound exploding from her throat and open mouth. "Imagine me in a habit! Very Madonna!"

Cuddy chuckled, trying to imagine Tim in a habit. Bad, very bad image, but insanely funny. She could imagine a high slit along the leg, wild makeup, red-orange hair and a pretty good amount of cleavage. The Pope's heart would probably stop cold at the sight of the new age Jezebel.

"You always remind me why I love you to pieces," Tim commented, still laughing and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "Halloween sounds about good right now."

"Don't even think about it," Cuddy said and decided it was safe to go back to work. "We've bashed religion enough. Back to what we were talking about."

"What _were _we talking about anyway?" Tim asked and Cuddy shook her head, ever the gold fish when it came to memory. It was amazing how Tim would easily forget the most random things and remember so much at the same time.

"Being a donor," Cuddy said. "Here for Princeton-Plainsboro."

"Yeah, what do I get out of that?" Tim asked, curious.

"A pretty plaque with your name on it that will be added to our list of donors," Cuddy said. "Or the fact that you _will _be helping people you might never ever meet. I don't know, the usual, pick a choice, whatever suits you."

Tim sighed, "Oh, well, I've been very naughty this year. Sure, I'll be your donor."

Cuddy smiled, "That's a good thing. Thank you, Tim. You're going to be helping a lot of people."

"See? Very Catholic," Tim said with a grin. "I pay up, I did a good thing. Like when it comes to sins with Catholics. You do something bad, something naughty then you slip into this little box on the side of the church, talk to some faceless voice, a few memorized words, a few minutes of kneeling and viola! You're clean again, forgiven."

"I don't think that's how it works," Cuddy said, unsure. "I mean…I don't know. Whatever you say, Tim, not like I'd know anything about that."

"No flogging, no stoning, maybe a dash of fasting here and there," Tim ticked them off each on her fingers. "Nothing overly painful, it's all jolly good fun, really. Very wholesome…can you imagine being told by some old guy to, I don't know, put that teeth thing around your thighs like one of those guys in the Bible?"

"How do you even know about what's in the Bible?" Cuddy asked, amused.

"Remember Tali?" Tim asked, referring to one of her many nannies and keepers.

"Eh…the one with the weird tooth?" Cuddy asked, vaguely remembering. Tim wasn't exactly easy to handle. Cuddy had survived with Isa, her nanny who had become a second mother to her, while Tim went through them like clockwork. It drove her mother insane, but her daughter didn't really care. Cuddy was sure she'd forgotten some of them.

"Yup, you remember!" Tim said, happy. "She was Catholic and she used to tell me she'd do it to me, the thing with the thighs. I told her to go ahead and do it, I thought it'd be fun."

"Weren't you, what, around nine that time?" Cuddy asked, genuinely surprised even though she knew she shouldn't. "You were a masochist already?"

"Oh, yeah," Tim nodded. "It sounded fun, but she never did it. She—"

"Quit and went home to be with her mother," Cuddy finished. "Yeah, I remember her. You threw her slippers away across Fifth Avenue."

Tim burst out laughing, "I forgot about that! Yeah, that was her!"

Cuddy shook her head, "Even back then, you were trouble."

"I know, cool back then, cool now. I'm good."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and went back to work, "I need to finish this, stay there and don't bother me too much. We'll have lunch outside the hospital."

"Yes, mother," Tim replied in perfect sullen teenager mode. "Whatever you say, mother."

Cuddy decided to ignore her.

She still hadn't told Tim about her baby-history that involved baby Joy and the baby who had died in an abandoned shelter. A part of her knew she should confide in Tim, that it would be good for her and it would help her, but looking at their precarious situation now not only with Nathan and Elliot, but also the feeling of dread that Tim was hiding something from her added more to why she couldn't say anything at the moment.

It was painful enough to talk about Joy on top of everything else, but the thought that Tim wasn't being entirely truthful with her was adding salt to the proverbial wound.

She believed, with all her heart, that Tim would never intentionally do anything that would hurt her, that she would only do things if she knew they were right for her, but of course, being left out and unknowing was scary still, even with reassurances and loyalty.

Remembering Joy and the baby that had died, Cuddy felt her fingers falter as she typed up the last of her year-end reports. Add to that the memory of the kiss she shared with House and later, the kick to the gut she received when she saw him with his hooker in his office.

Trust the bastard to bring his working _girl_ to work.

If he wasn't so good at his job, Cuddy would have not hesitated to fire his ass.

Anger.

It was much easier, getting angry at House than mourning the loss and death that surrounded her. It was easier and better. Without sadness and grief, she could get angry up to the point of expression that involved lobbing a rock at his thick head.

Basing on her personality and the way she was, Cuddy should have been feeling awful and guilty now, a better few hours after the incident, for using such force and violence at the cripple, but for some reason, probably anger, she wasn't feeling anywhere near close to that.

He had it coming.

That was the truth. He had it coming and sure, the _desk_ was a nice gesture, but seeing him with his hooker hurt enough. She was in enough pain to begin with and he had the nerve to bring one of the members of his bordello into her comfort zone. That was unacceptable and downright cruel, if she had any say so.

She would lob another object at him, she wouldn't care. The cane of his would work too, right up his…beep. _Somewhere_.

Shaking her head, Cuddy decided she would keep quiet for a while. She was going to have quite a day that consisted of lunch with Tim, the meeting with the board, the possibility of House barging into her office for some stupid procedure with his patient and her goal of finishing her report that day. If she finished it now, all she'd have to do later was update it.

Yes, she was going to finish it today. Work was so much better to think about than everything else between family, friends and House who fell in neither category.

The idiot misanthropic cripple would have to do without her today.

It felt good to get angry, she felt better already.

-o0o-

Leaning on his side against the elevator walls, House stood with his cane planted on the floor as his eyes focused on the numbers on the panel in front of him. He stood there, his eyes open but not completely seeing anything as his mind went on overdrive, as it usually did on some riveting case only this time, his rat maze of a mind was not focused on a case, but on a memory.

Something that he rarely visited, but was often forced to every time he was faced with a reminder, staring and studying Lisa Cuddy's social calendar that she hid in her computer with a password.

It was a memory that was more a secret that House never really talked about with anyone, not even to his faithful sidekick Wilson, knowing it was something he and Cuddy had agreed never to talk about when he first came to work with her. They didn't talk about it, at least not with verbal communication, but it was understood, even in hostile silence between them.

No one was ever to know.

Of course, she wasn't ashamed, she didn't have to be, but it was a vital part of their relationship, something that would have sent Allison Cameron's rationalizing mind into an overdrive. The memory alone could have Wilson sputtering with theories and answers he'd draw from them.

If Wilson ever knew, it would explain so much and House knew that only the truth was, even he himself didn't want anyone to know.

One can only imagine how they would all react if they found out Gregory House was once actually human.

_He'd just stepped into the main floor of the Phi Gamma Rho House when he noticed the place looked more like and overfilled night club than a dorm. Music, drinks and something-nearing sex dominated each space and atmosphere and he could see that a few students were more than a little wasted already. Tony, his roommate, stood next to him and whistled._

"_The rich bitches do know how to party," he said, looking around. His cheerleader girlfriend had to go home that day so he was with House on a loan._

"_Yeah, they do," House muttered, looking around._

"_Are we meeting someone here?" Tony asked, eyeing a few coeds who were sipping beers straight from bottles._

"_A friend," House said absently. "I've got some collecting to do."_

"_Oh," Tony nodded. "Man, my girlfriend's gonna kill me if she finds out where I was, Greg."_

_House stared at him, "Did I tell you to tell her? No, so zip it."_

"_Who are you looking for anyway?" Tony asked as they began to move through the crowds. "Some kid or one of your lacrosse buddies?"_

"_A kid," House said. "An undergrad and she's a girl. Long black curly hair, blue-gray eyes, small and kind of crazy."_

"_A chick?" Tony asked, grabbing his arm. "Dude, you didn't tell me! Is she hot?"_

"_None of your damn business," House replied. "And she's an undergrad, she's not a chick. She's more like a kid. Beau Tyler invited her after groping her from their last party."_

"_That guy's a sleaze," Tony grumbled low. "Total prick."_

"_I know," House said darkly. "That's why I need to find the kid."_

_Tony followed him along, "Does she like to dance?"_

"_She was dancing last time she was here," he replied, remembering the memory vividly, balling his hands into tight fists._

_For some reason, what was supposed to a fun night messing with an undergrad was turning into something serious. It had started out that way for him the moment he woke up that morning, a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him something was about to go wrong that day, all he had to do was find out what and probably stop it._

_It helped that his thoughts shifted mostly to the feisty seventeen-year-old, even as he was dissecting Lenny in the Anatomy Lab. He made a pristine and perfect dissection without thinking, his thoughts wandering to the girl he'd only seen and talked to for three times. Something nagged at him that day to see her, find her._

"_So let's check the dance floor," Tony said, nodding at the clump of people dancing about in various movements and directions, drinks and tongues heavily in use all over._

_Weaving through the maze of heavily intoxicated college students, House and Tony found themselves standing a step over the assigned dance floor. The students had apparently converged to the common room and the two twenty-something-year-olds stood at the entrance, watching the people gyrating and swaying drunkenly. Across the room, House could almost see the overpopulated stairs where even students where dancing and making out._

"_See her?" Tony asked, looking around even though he had no clue who he was looking for. "Is that her?"_

_House looked, seeing a curly haired girl making out with a tall guy. "No," he said immediately. The hair was too short and her rear end was too small, he didn't have to see the face to know it wasn't the undergrad he had in mind._

"_Damn it," House growled in frustration, watching the people on the floor. He was tall enough to look over the crowd, especially with the help of the higher step he was standing on the entryway. "Kid, where are you?"_

_Across the room, near the stairs, the undergrad was dressed in a tight black blouse, a short skirt pleated skirt and calf-length boots with Beau Tyler who was busy with his hands trailing over her body once more. That night, she was noticeably looser, laughing along with him and actually drinking instead of politely saying no._

_Dissatisfied and frustrated, House turned his back on the dance floor, Tony following behind, not noticing the girl in black dancing with the tall frat boy, his hands groping around her waist again, drifting lower and lower._

_The night was only getting started, House needed to search farther and faster and Lisa was slipping into a deeper tangled web than she had anticipated that night after spending all day hiding out from the med student she owed a weekend to._

_The night would end in a way no one expected that would involve pain, blood, tears, regret and later, a student leaving the school a few years earlier than scheduled._

_And the memory of the night would stay forever with the people directly involved._

-o0o-

Would you consider this a cliffhanger? I hope not.

I didn't get to update early as I wanted, but some family business came up. I blame my stupid, useless cousins who think smoking and not graduating high school is fun. Hate, hate, hate.

Anyway, here you go. I hope this is okay. Next chapter, the memory will be finished, House will talk to Cuddy and maybe, if I can time it right and fix it, House and Tim get to talk with a piano involved. Lucas will stick around, he's got some digging to do and Wilson's going to be Wilson.

And probably I'll check on the dancer patient. Maybe so don't hate me.

Nathan? Who knows, but he's around. The _first_ trip to New York is coming and I promise, it will be…something. Lisa and Elliot will be seeing each other real soon and the story unfolds. I swear. I'm writing my poofy butt off.

**For fun:**

The Vancouver thing is somehow Huddy connected to the show, one of the eps…can anyone guess? I was just watching it today and decided to put it in for fun.

**Random (Monsters vs. Aliens)**

I watched it last Saturday night! LOL I love cartoons and the fact that Hugh Laurie was voicing was a big bonus! It was so funny and I loved Dr. Cockroach, The President and B.O.B. So funny, even my mother enjoyed it. I'm definitely buying a copy. Cartoons are always fun, I even have a collection (Tim thing and cartoons was from me). And you know what? (this is going to sound pathetic!) Saturday around lunch, I dragged my mother to eat at McDonald's with me…LOL, MvA was the toy this month and guess what? I asked my mother for a happy meal! God, I can't remember the last time I asked for a happy meal. I got Dr. Cockroach, of course, and he's riding his little San Francisco train that he upgraded into a rocket. I love the movie, it was so funny! Especially when they were about to take down the Alien in Frisco. Very funny, so worth watching!

**Locked In:**

Can't wait for the ep…what was he doing in New York? I hate skipping air dates!

**Replies:**

_house fan _Congratulations for voting for Nathan! We'll see what happens, okay? But I can promise Nelise will have their moment as will Huddy. That's all I can say for now. Keep reading!

_Shopgirl909 _welcome to the 'we hate Nathan and the step mom' club because there are a lot of you guys. LOL

_DiannaNightstar_ thank you for your review and for helping me with fanfic-lingo (_big grin_). I'm not really new to fanfiction, but I never really learned about the initials and labels, usually I figure them out myself, but seeing as I get to ask you guys now, it helps me be more sure. Thank you so much for your help!

_Laila_ About the Huddy action…would you be okay with huddy-angst for now? You're getting that in the near future, especially since I need to hurry up with my updating.

_Kakashifangrl1012 _hm…I was afraid someone would comment on Elise's reaction to her mother's accident. Oh, well, I had it figured that when faced with situations as serious as losing a parent, some people have the tendency to react in different ways, reverting to being a child would be one of them. The way I've written it, I've written Elise as a sheltered and pampered girl and I guess, added with that and the situation, she reacted like a child. I don't know, I'm no shrink, but I don't think I can fix that scene anymore…although, next time I can try better. Thank you for noticing though, I'll have to make my characters more believable. I'll work on it, promise (_smiles_) And about the job? I live in a…well, it's a big city, but not that big and they let people my age get jobs like that during summers on that particular station. It's just for fun anywhoo…bah, what I wouldn't give to live in Wisconsin or anywhere in the US…my country is a bit boring. Bah!

_Emzypemzy _You've officially made your own patented shade of pink on my cheeks with your reviews. They're always so nice I almost don't believe them. LOL I hope you don't get too excited, it could be bad for you, but thank you so much for liking my story! I write for all of your reviews, all of you guys! I'm completely winging it with the whole Lucas/Wilson/House scene…I am always unsure, but I hope its in character enough for everyone, oh well…Gah, and about your theory—pftt! I am so nearing bursting now, wanting to tell you what happens, but…Ugh, man, we're going to be sharing some laughs when we reach that part, I swear! Your insights in my story are always great, expect one hell of a PM again! I got yours and man, my eyes bugged out wide! I'm sorry I updated too late, but the whole family thing is just stupid. Oh, and my job's starting soon! Yay!

Again, to those who are also reading and the others who reviewed as well, thank you as always. I'm so happy you guys are still tuning. More to come, I promise!

_cloybellsouth,net _PM-ahoy! I sent you one (_waves with a big grin_)

**The Job**

To those who wished me well on the new job, thank you so much! I'm nervous, never really talked on the radio or anything before, but I think its worth a shot. Wish me luck! I hope I don't babble like a mindless moron through my first day. Brrr…it's a little scary.

Anyway, I swear next time the update will be earlier! I'm shutting myself in the house for a while and will only leave for the job. I am so geared up to keep the story going, nothing's gonna stop me! Promise.

Next chapter, you guys have some Huddy scenes to look forward to when House comes in to drop his "bomb" on Cuddy. See what happens when he does and what it makes her do. I'm looking forward to it, I hope you guys are too!

And the House-memory will be finished next chapter as well.

xoxOphelia

_**NOTE:** I apologize ahead for anyone who was offended by the Catholic jokes. I don't mean to offend anyone, I don't have anything against the church and I don't want you guys to hate me for it so please don't. It's simply my character being careless and insane._ _I don't mean to launch a religious debate or battle of any form. It's just a story._

_Thanks for the Memories _by _Fall Out Boy_


	19. Chapter 18: Someone to Save You

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING.

Warning: I'm finishing the memory here though I'm warning you that it can be graphic. It's not so bad, but not everyone reacts the same way to matters that involve the things that happen in this memory. Don't worry, it's not _that _terrible. Just a fair warning. Oh, and language, bad, bad, bad words abound.

Chapter Eighteen: Someone to Save You

"_Maybe she's not here," Tony suggested, holding his own paper cup of beer now. "Maybe she ducked out early or went home with a guy…"_

"_She didn't and she wouldn't," House said firmly. "She's here."_

"_How would you know?" Tony asked, grinning. "What, you can smell her?"_

"_Shut up," House said, looking around and spotting a blonde chatting with another girl with a darker shade of blonde hair. "Hold on…"_

"_Where you going?" Tony asked then spotted where he was headed, he followed. "Oh, good! That's a good idea. Forget her, blondes are much more fun."_

_House did not need to turn around to see the shit-eating grin on his face._

"_Ana," House said, tapping the lighter blonde's shoulder._

_She turned, pale green eyes falling on him. "It's Kayla, but whatever." She smiled, flirtatiously, "Greg House, right?"_

"_Yeah," he said, nodding. "I think I saw you in Claude's class the other day…"_

"_Yeah," she said, turning her full attention on him, officially forgetting the other blonde now. "You remembered?"_

_House shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, of course."_

_She smiled wider. "Wow. I'm flattered. I thought you didn't notice me."_

"_I did," he said, lying partially though, in his defense, he _did _notice her but only because she was the one who leaned over Claude's desk, revealing her pretty C-cups in his face, holding her C-minus paper in front of him, unaware—or maybe very aware—the professor's eyes were going south away from her face. _

"_So," she said, coming nearer, body turned to his. She was a foot full shorter than him. Her fingers trailed up his chest to his neck. "What can I do for you?"_

"_Well," he smiled his charming, reserved smile he usually used on nurses around the campus' research hospital. It always got him what he wanted. "I was just looking around for a friend of mine. I think you're in the same schedule for Claude's class."_

"_Oh, really?" she asked, interested now. "Is he cute? I'd remember."_

"_Actually," he made sure his blue eyes were on hers. For some reason, that always got them. "I'm looking for a girl. Her name's Lisa Cuddy…do you know her?"_

_Her smile faltered, her eyes dimmed. "Oh, yeah, her…the one with that frizzy hair?"_

"_Yeah, she's a friend, we grew up together," he lied. "Practically my kid sister. Have you seen her? She said she'd be here. Her mother called and left a message."_

_Her eyes grew bright again: hook, line and sinker. "Oh! Okay, that's really sweet." She looked around. "I think I saw her with Beau Tyler by the stairs, they were dancing."_

_The envy dripped from her lips and by her eyes, he knew she was seething why the 'frizzy haired girl' got the campus dick— jock—Beau Tyler._

"_Oh," House said, cursing inwardly. "Right. Great, that's good. I'll go find her then…"_

"_Wait," she said, grabbing his arm. "When you finish with her and the message…maybe we can get together? I'm at the Barbour House."_

_House smiled. "Great. Maybe I'll see you later."_

_She batted her lashes, "I'll be right here."_

_Giving her one last smile, he headed off, Tony trailing behind him as he headed back to the common room. "Dude, I don't know how you do it…" Tony muttered as he followed._

_Out by the stairs, the dark haired undergrad laughed happily as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. It was a famous song, but she didn't care to remember the name or the singer. It was fun, upbeat and _loud_ which was exactly what she needed._

_She'd spent most of her day thinking about a certain Med student who had gotten her a great grade from the ass Claude. She'd hidden all day from him, hoping to dodge the stupid weekend she'd foolishly bet with._

_Lisa had been busy dancing to notice Beau slipping closer to her, his hand on her hip, a drink in hand. She was happy, she was giddy, she was all sorts of things and she loved the cocktail he handed her._

_The truth was, the drink the older student was slipping her was helping her loosen up. She usually got people's attention during parties, but she never really drank until tonight. She was loud, she loved to dance and she liked having fun—drinking wasn't in her game plan, but for tonight, she was making an exception which seemed to please the frat boy._

_She'd been preoccupied with her dancing to notice the other hand, with the drink, come closer to her and before she knew it, a sudden cold feeling spread over her chest, making her jump._

"_Shit," Beau said, dropping his cup. "I'm sorry—it was Brad." He turned to a snickering guy behind him. "You idiot! Look what you did!"_

_Lisa handed her drink off to someone blindly, suddenly not feeling as carefree and fun anymore now that her shirt was soaked with what smelled like beer. "It's-it's okay. It's fine…"_

"_I'm such an ass," Beau said apologetically. "Sorry, really, stupid—I'll help you clean…"_

_Hands suddenly made a move for her drenched shirt but she moved a step back, bumping into someone in the process. "No, I got it, really."_

_She lifted her shirt off her chest, her nose crinkling at the feel of the liquid on her skin._

"_You're soaked," Beau stated the obvious. "Here," he took off his gray polo shirt, leaving him in his white shirt. "You can dab it."_

"_Thanks," she said, trying to dry herself off with the shirt though it was obviously a futile move. The stickiness was beginning to spread on her chest._

"_Man, it's still a mess," Beau said. "I've got some shirts up in my room…you can have one to change with…"_

"_No," Lisa said, shaking her head. "I think I'll just go home. It's kind of late anyway."_

"_It's only eleven," he said, grinning at her winningly._

_She smiled, "I've got some papers to finish and it looks like you've got a full house. It's fine."_

_He shook his head, "You freshmen are always work, work, work." He sighed. "It's a weekend, but okay, at least let me get you a shirt? It's gotta suck going home with beer all over you."_

_She looked down her shirt then admitted, "Yeah, I guess."_

"_Then come on," he said, grinning as he grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs, amidst the cheering from some lower members of the fraternity. Lisa ignored them._

_Weaving through the gyrating and squirming students through the floors, House headed to the stairs only to find a bunch of tipsy and drunk students. Frat boys, he was sure, most of them older than Lisa by a year or two._

"_Dude," one drawled drunkenly, handing him a drink. "I'm…done."_

"_Yeah," House said, tossing the drink aside. "Have you seen Beau Tyler?"_

_The kid grinned, "Yeah," he hiccupped. "Went up his room 'bout…Brad," he turned to a guy smoking a joint next to him, "Where Tyler?"_

"_Up his room with his girl," Brad said with a blissful grin. "Fuck, she was hot. They've been there about…I don't know, but they've been there for a while."_

_The drunk snickered, "Did you see her boobs? Fuck, I'd do her."_

_House turned to Tony, his eyes furious. "Watch them."_

"_Where are you going?" Tony asked. "You heard them, she went with the prick!"_

"_She wouldn't," House growled as he headed up the steps, dodging past people._

_He could feel his pulse quickening, trying to ignore the alarms going on his head. Something was happening or was about to happen. The warnings had been right. He was sure._

_Lisa was upstairs with Beau Tyler._

"_Here," Beau said, grabbing a shirt from his drawer. "This should be good."_

_Lisa took the shirt from his hand, "Thanks."_

_He stood in front of her as she stood in front of him and they stared at each other, awkwardly. She held the shirt in front of her, waiting._

"_Oh," Beau said, as if snapping out of a stupor. "So I guess I'll…let you change."_

"_Yeah," she said grinning._

"_Yeah," he said, moving to the door. "I'll just…"_

_She didn't watch him go and waited for the sound of the door to open and close._

_Nothing came except the sound of a lock clicking into place._

"_Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing here?" a frat guy demanded as House landed on the second floor of the house. "Get out, off limits!"_

"_Where's Beau Tyler's room?" House demanded._

"_The fuck I'd tell you," was the answer. "Get the hell out."_

_Tony got up the stairs, "House."_

_House looked down the hall, seeing about ten doors and he didn't feel like looking through them, seeing there was a hall opposite it and another set of stairs leading up the third floor. With a slight growl, he marched at the frat boy, dressed in a shirt and jeans, his blonde hair sticking out everywhere._

_He grabbed onto his collar easy, "Beau Tyler's room. Now."_

_Tony was behind him in an instant. "Talk man, before it gets worst. He's kind of angry. What's your name?"_

"_Sanders," the guy said. "Karl Sanders."_

"_Okay, Karl," House said and proceeded to slam him against the wall. "Tyler's room."_

"_Hey, what are you doing?" a voice called and House looked behind him to see a large guy advancing towards them. He nodded at Tony who was easily as large as the troll._

"_We're just talking," Tony said. "He's looking for a girl."_

"_Well you won't find her here," the troll said. "This area is off limits. Phi Gamma Rho only."_

"_She's here," Tony said. "And see this guy pinning the shrimp? He can get kinda bitchy. The girl he's looking for is his girlfriend and she's a kid."_

_The troll smirked. "Well, if she's up here then she's definitely moved up. Forget it and get out. I'm sure the girl's fine."_

_House growled and slammed Karl to the wall, "Room. NOW."_

"_Hey!" the troll made a grab at House but Tony fended him off, an arm slamming onto his thick neck, the other hand pinning his other hand to the wall._

"_Tell him," Tony said, any breeziness and funny feeling gone as his inner football-demon came out. He was usually a carefree guy until he got angry._

"_Legacy row," Karl stammered. "Last room to the left…it's the one with the University colors streak. Can't miss it."_

_House dropped him to the ground, "Take me there."_

"_What are you doing?" Lisa asked, turning just as Beau faced her._

"_I thought you'd like some privacy while you changed," Beau said innocently._

"_Well," Lisa said slowly. "You kind of need to be on the other side of the door."_

_Beau glanced at the door then smiled at her, "No, not really. I think you'll be needing my help."_

_Lisa shook her head, "You know what, maybe this isn't important." She tossed the shirt onto the unmade bed. "I'm gonna go…"_

_She strode across the room only to be stopped as his hand took hold of her arm._

"_Maybe you should stay."_

-o0o-

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain," Tim sang mournfully from where she was draped across the couch lazily, playing with the ends of her dyed black hair with her fingers. "If you cut me with a knife it's still the same…"

"Tim?"

She looked up, craning her head as far back as she could, looking back at the woman on the desk who was looking at her with an amused expression, pen poised in the air, chin cradled by her free hand. "Got something to share with the class?"

Of course Lisa would remember the song. She'd been dragged to the movie kicking and screaming and digging her heels into the carpet, whining about the title of the movie itself being too grotesque for her taste.

"_And it's depressing enough because at this rate that's all I'm ever going to wind up as!" Lisa whined as a hand clamped around her arm pulled persistently._

"_Oh, screw marriage," Tim scoffed. "And what's the problem? If you're so hung up on getting married, I'll marry you."_

_Lisa snorted. "Wrong, in so many ways and not even legal yet…and just…ew?"_

"_Even after ew-ing me, I'll let you live just because you amuse me," Tim said darkly. "And to appease me, we're watching this damned movie because Burton is a goddamned genius."_

"_Tim, come on, let's watch something else…" Lisa moaned._

"_No and if your goddamned pager or cell phone rings in the middle of the movie, I'll hand them over to the first ankle biter I see and ask him to either eat it or throw it away," Tim warned. "I've been waiting for this movie for a long time."_

"_Tim, I'm serious, let me go."_

"_So am I, Lee," Tim said, stopping in front of the entrance, tickets in hand. "I missed the premier because of that damned tripod of yours, we're watching this just like I let you nail me to the couch, watching Funny Girl, Sabrina and Breakfast at Tiffany's."_

"_You like those movies," Lisa pointed out._

"_And you like the cartoons I drag you into," Tim rebutted. "And you'll like this one. I promise, it's all very sad and very musical, like you want it. But it's also freaking cool. I swear. Besides, the love story is tragic and grotesque and so very you. You'll like it."_

"_And if I hate it?"_

_No use in denying she was a fan of tragic love stories, they both knew well Lisa did._

"_You'll tell me you loved it," Tim said, shrugging. "Like I did when I said I loved 'The Apartment'."_

"_You did," Lisa said, staring at her. "Didn't you…?"_

"_Uh-uh, I love Shirley and Jack, but it wasn't the greatest, there I said it," Tim grunted. "Now, watch with me or I'll never watch Funny Girl with you ever again."_

"_You love Fanny," Lisa said, smiling._

"_Yeah, but I'll boycott it just to spite you and your discrimination of your future fellow dead unwed betrayed brides," Tim said, looking determined._

_It was fascinating, two women standing across each other, in an obvious stand-off in front of a movie theater in Manhattan, showing a movie full of singing maggots, corpses, bones and death—a movie mostly for kids._

"_Fine," Lisa moaned resignedly. "But I swear, if this gives me nightmares, you're moving to Jersey with me!"_

"_See?" Tim beamed. "You're adjusting to our future married life already!"_

"_Shut up."_

It wasn't until the end of the movie and they were both walking out and locked in a discussion—almost debate—about who Victor should have ended up with that they silently agreed that Lisa liked the movie very much, despite the grossness.

And she wouldn't be having nightmares about it any time in the future.

The song was one of the things Lisa would always remember from the movie. It was fun and poignant and outright sad in parts, with the little spider and the maggot consoling the broken bride. While Tim liked the song with the whole story about the bride's tragedy, Lisa the closet romantic and lover of tragedy, preferred the sad song.

Tim only ever sang it when she was bored or when she needed to entertain herself or Lisa. She knew Lisa loved hearing the song. Oddly enough, when Tim sang it, it made her smile.

Sometimes, Lisa would hum it without thinking, mostly the part Tim had just sung. If it had been anyone else, Tim would have thought it pathetic, but this was Lisa. It wasn't pathetic and was rather more a remembrance of a movie she loved. She was never a soundtrack-of-life girl.

"And I know her heart is beating," Tim continued, watching her. "And I know that I am dead, yet the pain I feel, try and tell me it's not real. For it seems I still have a tear to shed…"

"I haven't seen that movie for a long time," Lisa admitted, smiling.

"You haven't seen any movie in a long time," Tim muttered, getting up from her position, well far away from her sullen teenager mode and typically Tim now. "You work too much, Lee."

"Yes, I know, it's tragic," she said, almost condescendingly though Tim didn't bother to react to that. She smoothed her top and crossed one leg daintily over the other, watching as Lisa went back to work, writing with her head bowed in concentration.

It brought back memories of Lisa when they were still in high school: model student by the weekdays, party girl on the weekends and a brave and determined contender to verbal beatings in the hell that had once been her home at night.

A fighter, she was even back then, though she was tougher now and instead of waiting for the fights, she instigated them, picked less and acted more and learned how to plot and scheme and take her own enemies by tactics and logic.

The hormonal teenager with a world full of angst was gone.

A new woman took over and Tim could see it quite clearly.

And as much as she was proud, she was also a little wary. This Lisa proved more unpredictable and less steady. Of course, their friendship was unchanging and strong, but Tim couldn't be sure what Lisa would do on certain situations.

_Like what she'd do if she found out the truth and that Tim knew and hid it from her._

Normally, if there was a problem, Lisa would confront her and talk to her like the girl she was. The move that morning, that little subtle one-liner was out of character and challenging at best. Hidden messages, challenges and subtle warnings—it made Tim nervous.

Lisa knew, but what exactly?

It was obvious it wasn't about the secret, but Tim knew she _knew_ something.

And like approaching enemy grounds, Tim knew she had to be careful.

She helped build the crazy bitch that lived within Lisa and all she had to do now was figure out how she worked _now_.

Biting back a sigh, Tim lifted her eyes, surreptitiously watching the woman Lisa, still hard at work, untiring hand writing in her unchanging neat cursives—the same cursives she practiced over and over for months when they were kids after the first time she's been taught how to do them by her mother. Perpetually neat, even as a doctor—who are naturally known for their crappy handwriting—Lisa was the type who made sure things were always neat and clean.

"What are you planning tomorrow?" Tim asked, casually.

Lisa looked up, "I'm, uh, I'm going to drive up there and see Elliot…maybe I can talk to him." She closed her eyes and opened them again, a braveness showed. "There are treatments now, trials and potential drugs that can help him."

"Hope," Tim said, nodding. "You're going to talk him into fighting."

"What else can I do?" she asked, sadly. "I can't watch him die, Tim, and I _won't _let him die." She shook her head, "We've been away from each other far too long. I'm thinking maybe I can convince him to stay here in Jersey with me." She looked at Tim, her eyes full of sorrow and regret, "I still need him, Tim, very much."

Tim nodded, "That's…that's good, Lee. You're going to need each other, now more than ever. He still needs you too."

"You'll be here, won't you?" she asked and Tim could detect, somewhat sadly, the doubt in her voice. "Elliot loves you too."

Tim nodded, "Where else would I be? I know you two won't survive without me, both of you so _needy_, it's so sad."

Lisa smiled shyly. "Thank you."

Tim smiled, "Anytime, Lee-la."

A somber look flashed across her pretty face and Tim knew what it meant. The memory was still there, that day, as they both knew would stay with them forever. This would be something they would share until the end. Having each other through those moments and the other moments to come, would

They would have each other, forever and always. It was a promise.

A promise Tim knew would be tested in less than twenty-four hours.

And she felt the urge to confess, repent, to just tell her the truth. She felt the emotional urge to just grab her and hold her, ask her to understand and not let go.

It was her own reality that Lisa and Elliot was all she had. The real reality of her life was _they were all she _ever _had. _An accidental baby was what they called her. Unplanned and unwanted, mom and dad had lives to live and a baby was never in the map.

Not that Tim cared _anymore_, she got over it a long time ago. Thanks to Lisa and Ellie, and most of all, Elisabeth Holloway-Foxworth.

They were her _real _family.

The ringing of Lisa's phone startled Tim's somber thoughts and for that she was thankful. The thoughts were dark enough on their own and they usually warranted she be in a dark bar, sipping scotch and sitting on a bar stool alone, waiting for a stranger to take home for the night. It was the type of behavior that always scared and angered Lisa so she never told her when it happened.

It was dangerous, it was desperate, it was pathetic—everything she didn't want to be or have but once in a while needed.

In the arms of a stranger, sometimes it felt good to know she was alive even when she was alone. It was something.

In the morning, things would be back to the way they always were. She would kick out the stranger, if he hadn't left yet, get cleaned, dressed and start over.

Like a fucking broken record, everything would just keep going and going in the same circles. Her mundane life was something Lisa understood, which was why she accepted Tim's flighty decisions to jump from one career to another.

"This is Dr. Cuddy," Lisa said, not bothering to check the screen of her phone as her free hand drifted to her the mouse at her side, clicking away on her computer. "Oh, hi…"

Tim watched her, seeing the corners of her lips curl up in a smile.

"Yes," Lisa said, glancing at Tim. "I'm going there tomorrow morning. With Tim." She shook her head, "I don't think that's a good idea…"

Tim applauded her mentally for that.

"No, really, we'll be fine," Lisa insisted. "No, Nathan, really. We're good. Tim's driving me to New York, we're going to see Elliot, we're going to talk then who knows?" She listened. "No, Nathan, I'm okay, Tim will be with me." She frowned. "No, come on, don't be like that. It's not…like that."

Tim rolled her eyes. The man was as needy as a five year old. She got up from her seat.

"I know, but she wouldn't let anything happen to me," Lisa said, shaking her head. "She's a maniac on the road, but she won't seriously kill me. Maime me, yes, but not kill…" she chuckled. "Lighten up, I'm kidding…" She sighed. "Nathan, really, I've made my plans with Tim."

Tim got up, annoyed now, and took less than seven steps to get to the desk, snatching the phone away from Lisa's ear.

"Hey!" Lisa cried, her eyes indignant.

"I'm sorry the line is no service" Tim said, imitating an operator. "So hang up and get screwed, Stinky Binky. I'm sure that bordello on twelfth avenue is still there. "

"Artemis, give Elise back her phone," Nathan said, exasperated.

"She's riding with me," Tim said, in her normal voice.

"Like I'd let her?" Nathan snorted. "You drive like a maniac, you're going to kill her."

"Easy for you isn't it, frou-frou?" Tim snarked. "You have some old ass champ to drive you around like the pansy you are."

"I am not a pan—" Nathan stopped with a sigh. "I won't fight today, Tim, please, just let me talk to her. I…tomorrow will be hard enough."

Tim glanced at Lisa who was glaring at her from her seat. "Hard for who? You?"

"All of us," Nathan answered. "You're just as part of this as I am."

"Yes, I know, tragic," Tim said. "And you'll regret doing this."

"I won't," Nathan said. "We're doing what's best for her."

"I'm getting tired of hearing that," Tim said, rolling her eyes. "And it's final, I'm driving her in. Meet us there if you want, I don't give a shit."

"Tim…"

"Now, goodbye," Tim said curtly. "She's busy."

"Artemis."

"This is the part where I'm supposed to be scared, right?" Tim said sarcastically. "Hang up or I'll commit suicide right now."

"What?"

"I'll do it, I swear," she said. "It won't be good for me but I'll do it. She's going to hate you and me."

Nathan was silent for a moment, "You wouldn't…"

"I would."

"She'll hate you."

"I know."

"She wouldn't forgive you."

"I know, but if it kicks your ass because you know it'll happen to you too, I'll do it. Right now."

She dared him to call her bluff—it was her salvation as it is. She hoped he'd dare.

"Fine," he sighed. "You can drive her in…Elliot and I will wait for you. At the house."

"Good. Glad we agree."

"Tim," Nathan's voice was softer. "We're doing this for her own good, I promise, in the end it will be worth all this."

"You think I believe you? You don't know that." Tim said scornfully then hung up.

Tossing the phone onto the desk, Lisa stared at Tim head cocked to the side. "Well, that was…morbid."

"Yes, it was," Tim agreed. "I'd slit my own wrist just to get away from him," she rolled her eyes. "But you'd hate him for making me do it so it should be worth it."

"What were you talking about?"

"Poetic though, isn't it?" Tim mused, ignoring the pointed question. "Or noble. My last act of love for my darling Lee-la, tearing her away from the grasp of a wimpy little twit like Nathan Winslow by spilling my own blood in despair, torn and at her wit's end, desperate for there was nothing else to be done—"

"Okay, you've been spending way too much time around thespians," Lisa muttered. "Okay, come on, just…what the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean? I just told your little—and by _little _I mean, _little_—ex-boyfriend that he's not going to be driving Miss Daisy tomorrow."

"Tim."

She waved her hand, "I'm not lying."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she applauded herself for being a damned good liar.

Their eyes battled for a moment, sea-green battling stormy-blue, wills clashing and grounds being set. It was a battle none wanted to lose.

But someone had to…eventually.

Tim was steeling herself not to waver, just to prove she wasn't the lying, when the office doors burst open with an obnoxious, "Honey, I'm home!"

Both women looked up to see the cripple standing proudly there, cane posed in front of him brace by both hands, a grin spread on his face. Tim heard Lisa sigh loudly.

"House, what are you doing in my office?" Lisa asked, scowling.

"I need to talk to you," he said, nudging his head at Tim. "Means visiting hours are over, lesbo, now _git_ gone."

"House!" Lisa shrieked. "Don't talk to her like that!"

Tim smiled, "Don't worry, Lee, he's just upset because _I'm _taking up mommy time with Gregory."

"Uh, no, though mommy time with spanking sounds deliciously enticing right now," House said, leering at Cuddy. "But first, important grown up stuff and, if you didn't pick up on my hint, me telling you to leave was actually me telling you to leave. I need to talk to the She-Devil."

"What? Have another patient to kill?" Tim asked. "Or another employee to sacrifice?"

House turned to Lisa whose eyes were directed heavenward. "_What _the hell did you tell her? Are you that obsessed with me that you have to tell her every single detail of your pathetic life?"

Tim's eyes darkened. "Watch it, tripod."

No one had the right to call Lisa pathetic, unless it was Tim herself or Lisa.

"Ooh, I'm so scared," House feigned fear. "Cuddy, talk now, so get rid of your girlfriend."

"If this is about a patient, fine, but if not," Lisa motioned for the door. "Get out."

"It's not about my patient," House said. "But it is about you. Something I think you should know."

"House—"

"I'm serious," he said, his eyes dark and uncharacteristically serious with a touch of somberness that Tim had never expected to see in him. "Contrary to popular belief, I can be serious."

Lisa stared at him and Tim looked between them, her eyes gauging reactions and reading them.

House stance was solid, making it clear to everyone in the room and anyone else who could see him that he wasn't going anywhere. He had something to say and he was going to say it. His aura told Tim that he needed and wanted her to get the hell out.

Good luck with that. Tim could be as every bit a stubborn son of a bitch as him.

Lisa was tense and something told Tim she knew what the cripple needed to say was indeed important, but she was cautious because, as Tim knew, House was the master of manipulation and bullshit. She'd fallen for his crap enough times to believe him now.

"Cuddy," House said, his tone deep and serious.

Lisa glanced at Tim who cocked her head to the side, silently telling her she wasn't moving. Her storm-blue eyes settled back on House, "I'm busy at the moment. I have a deadline to meet and Tim and I have to discuss her position as a donor in this hospital."

"This _can't _wait, Cuddy," House pressed, his eyes taking a darker turn that suggested he was losing his patience, _fast_. "Screw your deadline and get your girlfriend out for _one _minute."

"You will wait your turn, like the rest of what I have lined up," Lisa said, taking her Dean of Medicine, Chief Administrator persona. Also known as hell-bitch and ice queen persona. "If it's not urgent, it will have to wait."

"You think you not ending up dead isn't important?" House asked, mockingly. "Because, really, if you want to end up chopped up into pieces in a bag then fine, it can wait."

Tim's eyebrows shot up, now she was interested.

Lisa's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"For the Dean's ears only," House rumbled.

"I'm not going anywhere so if you need to blab then blab," Tim snapped irritably. "Quit the dramatics and spit it out."

House glared at her and she met his glare with her own.

Lisa stood up from her seat, "House, what are you talking about? What you need to say, you can say in front of Tim. She's my friend, I'll only tell her later anyway."

Silence permeated in the room bathed in sunshine and the three occupants waited for someone to crack, all three deliberating quietly who was going to have to speak first. The silence stretched for a short period, the one to crack was a surprise.

"Your cancer visitor is a fake," House said, unwilling to acknowledge his defeat though it was obvious he was annoyed. "He lied about his brother, he _doesn't _even have a brother. He's just another weirdo spat out of New York."

The corners of Tim's lips curled up, a feeling of glee blossomed in her chest and her cheeks grew a slight shade of pink as she suppressed the need to let out a girlish squeal. Her eyes fell onto Lisa who stood frozen behind her table, her hands balled frozen at her side, her eyes darkening and her cheeks growing suddenly pale.

And the feeling of glee was washed away immediately as Tim realized Lisa's secret has just been threatened at the unveiling of Nathan's cover.

House stared at her, observing her like a bug under a microscope. "You don't look surprised and yet you look…terrified."

Tim stood up and leant back against the desk, sitting herself on the edge. "How did you know? I mean, you're brilliant, but not that brilliant, I'm sure."

"I am," House said, shrugging as he looked at her blankly. "But I know a guy who knows a guy who knows things about the liar."

"What do you know?" Tim asked, curious as she crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Why, you gonna hire the hitman?" House asked.

"Yes."

"Rich guy, great connections," House said. "Didn't lie about being a lawyer, but who knows? My guy's-guy's-guy could be wrong."

Tim shrugged one shoulder. "What else?"

"Only child," House answered. "Son of Henry Winslow, lawyer and Cornelia Basset, socialite and he's from that high-falutin' school called Yale."

Tim nodded slowly. "Wow, your guy's-guy's-guy must be good."

"He's an idiot," House answered. "But he's still digging. I just needed to prove the guy's a liar—I don't know where he buried the bodies yet, but I'm sure my guy's-guy's-guy will find out."

"Get out."

Tim and House turned to Lisa who was still pale, her eyes darker than Tim had seen in a long time. She knew that look and she knew things were not about to look good for the messenger.

"What?" House asked, surprised. "I just saved your ass from being conned. That's gotta be like ten months of clinic duty."

"I said get out," Lisa said, slowly. "Unless your patient is dying or _dead_, don't come near me starting now until the end of the day. Get out. Call off your stupid PI and do your damned job."

House stood his ground, eyes confused and calculating, watching her closely. He stood silent, taking in the image of a furious Lisa Cuddy.

Poor cripple, Tim knew his mind must be in shambles, wondering why his boss went from ice queen to uber-bitch in two seconds.

"You're nervous," he said simply, his hands on top of each other on the head of his cane. "Why?"

Tim had to hand it to him, he had balls. Most men would have left by then since Lisa's eyes screamed _castration_ with no pity. She had to credit him as well for knowing Lisa much more than she had expected.

The nervousness on Lisa's body was subtle, almost nothing, but he'd seen it for himself, underneath all that fury and suppressed rage.

She knew he must be as good as he believed he was.

Inside, she smiled. He could be useful, in the future.

"I'm not, I just want you to get the hell out," Lisa said coldly. "You're wasting time—my time—for your little games. Leave it alone, House, stop poking around in things you don't have any business poking around in. Do what you're being paid more than enough to do."

"You're angry," he said, nodding at her. "But not at what I said, but…at me," he sounded certain. He watched her for a moment then his eyes widened somewhat, "You're angry…_because_ I _told_ you the truth."

"House…" she growled.

"You _want _him around, don't you?" House said, eyes dark with what Tim could silently interpret as looming anger and, dare she say, _jealousy_. "You actually want that lying leech around you."

"Leave it alone and _leave_," Lisa snapped.

"You _want _him."

It was more a conclusion than an accusation.

Tim could definitely see green all over him. Interesting…

He grinned though it seemed more sinister and fake. "The she-beast is trying to get her groove back with Mr. Rich Guy." He shook his head and waved his cane. "Desperate, untouched and, dare I say, unfucked…you want him."

Lisa's eyes darkened more.

Tim waited for the explosion and she almost wanted to cover her ears.

"Get out or I _will _pull your authorization."

The delivery was calm, Tim was tempted to turn to Lisa questioningly, wondering why and how she was so calm when she was so obviously near explosion.

"Sacrificing a patient's life for a screw?" House cocked his head to the side. "God, you _must _be desperate, Cuddles."

Tim smirked while Lisa rounded her desk and got in House's face. "Get out."

"What are you hiding?" House rumbled deeply as they stood, eye to eye. Tim was sure their breaths were close enough to mingle and tease.

Obviously, invading each other's space was normal.

"You're nervous, bitchy, moody and angry," House said, unfazed by the five-foot-something in heels in his face. "For the wrong reasons…why?"

"Because I'm sick of you meddling with what isn't yours to meddle with," Lisa said coolly. "Just get out, House. I don't want to see you."

They eyed each other and Tim stood like a fly on the wall, curiosity piqued at how the fireworks of suppressed rage and blooming pent-up sexual chemistry flew around them. She wondered if every day was like this and how the hell Lisa managed not to jump him.

Tim didn't like the mangy mutt, but god, he was sexy, in his own way which was something since she didn't even like the guy in any way or form.

And it was obvious he wanted to jump Lisa too as she did him. The chemistry was just _there_. Like two freaking atoms laws of physics dictated should merge.

Like something-something that just _needed _to happen.

_A fucking match made in heaven._

It was quite amazing to watch.

"Fine," House said, after a moment, taking a step back. "But if he kills you after he gives you seven-minutes in heaven, I get your parking space."

With that he turned and walked out, throwing the doors open and leaving the two women in the suffocating tenseness that he'd created. Lisa stood frozen in place and Tim stared at her, amused.

"So, _how_ did you manage not to fuck him all these years or have you been hiding something from me?" Tim asked with a grin.

-o0o-

"Your boss is in her evil moody bitch mood," House said over his shoulder as he passed the assistant planted obediently behind her desk. "Watch out."

Slipping out of the office and limping out of the clinic, ignoring the head bitch nurse's nagging him over his clinic duty, House limped out of the clinic. Once he got past the doors, he took out his pill bottle and popped three then reached for his phone.

"Get your snitchy butt back to New York or wherever else you can dig," he said into the phone. "I need to know more about Nathan Winslow and while you're at it, Artemis Lynn Theodoratus. We're not done yet, there's more to this puzzle."

He listened, rolling his eyes. "Just do it. And tell Wilson to meet me in the cafeteria. His cancer party can wait. We need to talk and I'm hungry."

Snapping his phone shut, House looked around, as if expecting someone to come strolling by. His thoughts replay the look on Cuddy's face when he told her about the lying bastard frolicking around her hospital.

He knew his analysis was right. She was upset not because of the news, but because House told her. A part of him nagged that there was more to the story, that he missed something that had been on her face, her reaction and her entire demeanor that he should have spotted.

The way she reacted, the way she jumped form disbelief to outright bitch was unusual. The rage was her, definitely, but the way it formed was wrong. She was fair and was not at all a lunatic of bipolar, she always had reasons to be angry and the way she was angry in her office was definitely insane in ways that simply wasn't Cuddy.

He remembered the look in her eyes, the way they shifted then froze. Her hands, as they balled in tense fists, her cheeks losing color almost immediately and gradually as he spurted out his answers to her friend.

Limping towards the back, he headed for the cafeteria, dodging civilian clad people and coated doctors, his mind lost to the scene replaying in his mind. There was something there, the way she acted, there was something there…it wasn't her.

The rage, the anger, the fury…it was how she would be if he was killing someone, but the way it came, the way she snapped was not her.

For that moment, as he stood proud that he was saving her rotund ass from being conned again by some pretty boy bandit, he saw her turn into something he didn't recognize.

She changed, right in his eyes, and it intrigued him.

Heading to the cafeteria and realizing he was in the mood to pilfer a T-bone for an early lunch, he let his mind occupy him with thoughts he normally didn't allow in his head.

It was amazing what Lisa Cuddy was doing to him today. He was thinking more about her than he usually did. Whatever she was hiding, it was worth finding out if he was neglecting his case. What was happening with his dancer anyway?

Nothing life threatening he was sure since his beeper and cell phone were quiet as a mouse and his team were nowhere in sight.

Limping through the hall, he let his mind wander.

"_I don't think so," she said, shrugging the hand on her arm off. "Whatever you think we're doing, we're not. You've misunderstood—"_

_His hand clamped over her arm again, "Oh, I didn't. I think I understand very well."_

_She tried to shrug his arm off again, "Let me go."_

"_Not yet," he said and suddenly his hands were wrapped around her wrists in a vice like grip and he flung her onto his bed like a rag doll. Her startled gasp made him smile._

"_No!" she said as he was suddenly on top of her before she could crawl away. "No! Get off me!"_

"_Not yet," he said again, pinning her wrists together over her head. "Not yet."_

"_Stop!" she screamed, kicking her legs, trying to reach his groin with her knee. His longer legs thwarted her blows. "Stop it!"_

"_Fight, come on," he urged with a smile. "Fight me, it's fun."_

"_No!" she screamed. "Get your hands off me!"_

"_I see you," he said, his breath close to her cheeks. "I see you everywhere—parties, around the University, at the quad…I see you and you never care. You're always laughing, always smiling, but you never let anyone touch you."_

"_Please," she said, calmly. "Stop."_

"_No," he said and she could feel his arousal pressing against her. "No, you know why? You walk around, you tease, you smile, you laugh—but you won't let me touch you, you little cock tease." He leaned closer, bringing his lips to her neck and she squirmed. "No, I'm getting what I want from you, no more teasing."_

_Pressing with his body and pinning her deeper into the mattress, she let out a scream as his teeth dug into her neck. "No, please!"_

"_Shut up!" he hissed, letting go of her wrists and clamping his hand over her mouth. "Shut your mouth or this will go more painful than necessary, you little bitch."_

_Her arms flailed and a clenched knuckle slammed against the side of his head once, twice and until the third that made him see stars. He faltered and she pushed him off, heading for the door, but he'd been quick to recover, grabbing her wrist and throwing her down the floor._

_Her chin collided painfully with the ground, her teeth digging right into her bottom lip, cutting it deep enough to make it bleed. She rolled, groaning as her brain felt as if it had been shaken._

"_You cock teasing little bitch," he snarled, getting on top of her on all fours, both hands pinning her wrists on the sides of her head. "Don't you ever do that again!"_

_An open palm collided against her cheek, making her whimper and suddenly she was being pulled off the ground again. She fought, kicking him on the shin but to no avail, he held on and let one fist slam against her side, making her cry out in pain as he tossed her to his bed once more._

_She screamed._

"_Shut up!" he backhanded her._

_She coughed and spat out blood onto his sheets. She whimpered and began kicking again when his hands gripped her bare thighs, pushing her skirt up higher and revealing her thighs to him._

"_Stop!" she cried. "You can't do this! Stop it!"_

"_Watch me," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and using the other to grip her right thigh while his left knee pushed her left leg open roughly. "I'm gonna fuck you, you little bitch."_

"_Oh, god," she cried. "Help! Please!"_

"_Shut up!" his hand squeezed around her neck, cutting off her airway and quieting her successfully. "Shut the hell up!"_

_House reached the door, hearing a male voice screaming. He tried the door and growled when he found it locked. He turned to see the troll and Karl behind Tony._

"_Better tell your Trust Fund Hussy he's paying for this door," he said, backing up._

"_What the hell are you—"_

_House ignored him as he backed up, standing right in front of the door. He thought he heard a female voice scream and it almost stopped his heart cold. He knew it was her. He growled deep in his chest and lifted his foot, slammed it right on the door and busted it open._

"_Fuck! Hey!"_

_He ignored them as he found Beau Tyler on his bed, Lisa Cuddy pinned underneath him, crying with blood on her bottom lip, her eyes wide._

"_What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Beau screamed. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"_

"_You sick little—" House said, unaware he was yelling as he took three long strides to the bed, grabbing Beau by the collar and throwing him against the floor with a loud thump. Instantly, House was on top of him, knees landing on each side of his stomach as he lay sprawled on the floor, straddling him and balling his fists tightly._

_One punch landed across his jaw, snapping his head to the side while the next one headed right for his nose, breaking it with a loud crack. House's fists landed with precise target, each blow harder than the other and he did so, unaware of the hands and arms that were trying to get him off the smaller opponent._

"_You little shit!" House screamed. "Touch her again and I will kill you!"_

"_Get the hell off!" the troll yelled as he tried to once again grab House's arm. "Go get Tucker!"_

_Karl surrendered his attempts to stop the Med student and ran out the door, calling for help. In not time at all, bigger frat boys were in the room, four of them grabbing House by the arms and torso, pulling him off the bloody faced Beau Tyler._

"_What the hell is going on here?" someone asked._

_House, still in the haze of his adrenaline rush, shrugged them off roughly and turned to the bed where Tony was consoling a wrecked Lisa Cuddy. He glanced back at the bleeding form on the floor where two others were trying to help him off._

"_Your sick fuck of a roommate just tried to rape her," House growled, tearing off his jacket and draping it over Lisa. Immediately, she was in his arms, hiding and crying. His arms slid easily around her, holding her close, protecting her from everyone._

"_Not…not true," Beau moaned, wincing as he tried to speak with blood spilling from his mouth. "Jerk…got...jealous."_

_A tall frat guy, taller than Beau, who House assumed was one of the ones who pulled him off, stood towering over the fallen college student, pity and sympathy nowhere to be found on his face. "What did you do?"_

"_Nothing," Beau muttered. "I need ice!"_

"_She's seventeen, she's under-aged and he assaulted her," House bellowed, holding on to the crying figure in his arms. "Either you get him out of here or I'm finishing this off. Pick: I kill him right here, right now _or_ I get out and report this and he lives."_

_Two guys came into the room and began to help Beau up, grabbing him by the arms as he held his mangled nose. "Get him the fuck out of here," he said, trying to sound menacing despite his pathetic state. "I'm calling my lawyers, you're paying for this."_

"_And you think your lawyers can keep you out of jail for what you did to her?" House snarled dangerously. "Trust me, you'll love jail way better than what I want to do to you."_

"_Everyone settle down," someone commanded and three guys moved to the doors, clearing the audience that had gathered outside. He looked as old as House and it was clear he was someone in the fraternity. "Listen," he turned to House and Lisa. "Whatever happened here, we can take care—"_

"_I want him out of here," House said darkly. "I'm calling the Dean, I'm calling the police. They will deal with him, he will be gone. If you do anything to fight against this, the Housing Committee will hear about this and your parties, you'll go to the Housing Courts for violation bylaws and codes. _I_**will**__ testify. In a matter of five days, this fraternity and this house will be shut down."_

"_Beau," the other guy said, the threat was clear in his voice._

"_We were just having fun," Beau muttered._

"_Beau," the tall one said. "Truth."_

"_She…" Beau started. "Nothing…"_

"_You tried to rape her," House growled. "You sick fuck!"_

"_Just get her out," the other guy said, shaking his head. "We'll take care of this."_

"_I'll let you handle this and I'll let you choose between your fraternity and that piece of shit," House said darkly to the leader. "The police will be here in half an hour. That's how much time I'll give you to clear out everything else." He glanced at Beau, "Make your choice and make sure you choose wisely because if not, you better be damned sure I'll be back for him. And you."_

_Taking her in his arms and curling her against his chest, House cradled Lisa in his arms and held her against him. Her hands slid around his neck and she pressed her face against his chest. Glaring one last time at Beau Tyler, he carried her out of the room, Tony following close behind._

_He wove through the crowd that had gathered outside, hiding Lisa in his arms and making sure no one saw her face. He made sure not to stop and talk to anyone as they left the house and slid into the backseat of Tony's car, thankful they'd taken it instead of his motorcycle._

_House sat in the backseat with her, holding her against him as she cried it out, uncaring that she'd smeared her blood and tears against his shirt—he didn't care because what mattered was, she was okay._

_Three days later, news around campus spread like wildfire: Beau Tyler, a famous Phi Gamma Rho legacy, had left the University of Michigan._

_The story of the undergrad and the legend were mostly discussed in whispers, the details never quite accurate, stories more based in rumors and speculation, but things had been kept quiet. The fraternity brothers kept their silence and everyone else kept theirs._

_In the car that night, as Tony backed out, he glanced at the couple in the back. House held his undergrad close enough that she was on his lap, her face buried against him still, clinging to him in ways the roommate had never seen House get close to with someone else._

"_You're fine, kid," he whispered to her, his hand in her hair. "You're gonna be fine."_

"House."

He looked up, seeing Wilson standing in front of him and only realizing he was seated in one of the corner tables in the cafeteria, his cane on an empty seat beside him. "Jimmy."

"What were you thinking about?" Wilson asked, taking the seat across from him. "You looked like you were miles away."

"Just replaying my wild night with my hooker last week," House lied smoothly. "She's got legs made of Twizzlers."

Wilson's eyebrows furrowed, "You're lying."

"I don't lie," House said simply. "Now, go buy me lunch."

"You're deflecting."

"Can I have a dollar for each time you say that?" House asked snidely. "I bet I can by myself a yacht by the end of the year alone with that."

"You needed to talk about something?" Wilson asked, getting up again. "Why did you send Lucas back to New York? And why are you having him dig about Cuddy's friend?"

"Because she's hot," House answered. "You haven't met her, but you will. She's with Cuddy right now, getting it on like lesbian rabbits."

Wilson frowned, hands placed on his hips in a familiar pose. "I am not getting you food and paying for it. Get it yourself, we're having an early lunch. I have a board meeting with Cuddy after lunch today."

"Board meeting? What for?" House asked. "I haven't killed my patient yet."

"It's about a resident someone caught him smoking with some orderlies on the roof," Wilson said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Almost lost his patient."

"Which resident?" House asked as he got up.

"Eckley," Wilson answered. "As if it wasn't bad enough when he got caught having sex in the sleep lab with a nurse."

"I sense bitterness in your voice, Jimmy," House taunted. "Why? Was she one of yours?"

"No," Wilson said. "I just don't like the guy. Arrogant and stupid—someone who doesn't deserve to be a doctor."

"Unlike me," House said as he headed for the line in the cafeteria. "Arrogant and brilliant."

"But of course," Wilson said sarcastically. "Your arrogance is excused by your brilliance which is why everyone here likes and thinks the world of you."

"Cool, isn't it?" House wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm, like, a god or something."

"Or something," Wilson repeated as they made their way to the lines. "So, what were you thinking about just now?"

"My legion of fans in this hospital and their undying love and adoration," House answered as he was handed his tray. "It's beautiful."

"House."

"I told Cuddy," House said instead. He didn't tell Wilson about that particular fragment in his history with _their _boss, he wasn't about to tell him now.

Wilson's eyes widened with anticipation. "And?"

"She went ballistic and threw me out," House answered.

Wilson frowned. "What? Why? What did you do?"

"Why does it have to be something _I _did? I told her!" House complained.

"You must have done _something_," Wilson insisted. "What?"

"Nothing," House growled as he picked up a piece of stake. "I came in, I told her and she went batshit crazy on me and threw me out."

"Did she say why?" Wilson asked, reaching for a salad.

"During when?" House asked. "When she was bitching out at me or when she was just about to lob another piece of knick-knack at my head?"

"She tried to lob something at you again? What _did_ you _do_?" Wilson sounded annoyed now.

House glared at him over his shoulder. "Fine, she didn't try to throw anything," he muttered as he began to shovel large pieces of lettuce on his plate, tossing in some tomatoes as well. "But she did get incredibly pissed I blew her crush's cover."

"Cuddy has a crush on that guy?" Wilson asked, disbelieving and surprised.

"Oh, come on," House snapped, glaring at him. "He's got white teeth, white skin, perfect hair, Italian shoes, an Armani suit and acts straight—he's got perfect husband written all over him! I'm surprised she's even here to work."

"Seriously? You really think she wants him?" Wilson asked, which annoyed House more.

It was bad enough he had things to shove to a still quite in denial Cuddy and deal with her uber-bitch best friend now Wilson chooses this time to pretend to be on his side and be patronizing just because they were friends. Perfect, _really_, House needed the fake stroking just to deflate his ego.

"Are you high or are you just being patronizing?" House asked just as they arrived in front of the cashier. He grabbed a bag of chips and left without a word.

He didn't have to turn back to see Wilson sigh and take out his wallet, in effect paying for both their meals, as always.

"I was not being patronizing," Wilson said, taking his seat back in front of House. "I really don't think Cuddy likes Nathan Winslow."

"Do I have to grab another table? I'm cripple, you know."

"No," Wilson said, stabbing out vegetables in his fork. "I _know _Cuddy and I don't think this guy is what she wants."

"He's got baby daddy written all over him," House grumbled, imagining once again the superior looking man who'd walked into the hospital the previous day. He was a perfect model of the human anatomy and beyond. He knew Cuddy had to have been salivating at some point.

"It doesn't matter," Wilson said nonchalantly. "He's not who she wants."

"Oh, really? Enlighten me, oh Oncology Jedi," House said sarcastically, preparing to tune out whatever Wilson had up his pez dispenser of useless advice.

"Cuddy doesn't want him," Wilson said, shrugging. "She wants…someone else. Someone specific, actually, the only problem is, that someone is an idiot who can't or won't dare try relationships because he's either too scared or too full of himself to actually do something."

House rolled his eyes, "I _know_! I've tried talking to Foreman about this Thirteen thing, he won't listen. Kutner tried, but what can _he _do? And Taub? Ha! Mr. Adultery doesn't even cut it. Foreman and Thirteen, _like_, belong to each other and stuff, you know?"

House was proud of his Valley Girl impersonations.

Wilson sighed, "House."

"Yes, Willie?"

"You're the one she wants," Wilson said, leaning forward to say it quietly, afraid someone might hear and it would be the end of his career. "Do you actually need me to say that? _She wants __**you**__,_ House, God knows why, but she _does_."

House had a sarcastic remark ready when the entire scenes, the vital ones, went together and replayed in his mind with a click. His eyes shifted, got wide and froze, hand holding a fork poised over the untouched pile of camouflage vegetables.

"She's hiding something."

_An epiphany._

He knew before, from the previous day, but today just provided him the confirmation he needed.

He was sure.

Cuddy was hiding something and he was the last person she wanted to know. That was what was missing. She was hiding something from _him_, something _she _**doesn't **want _him _to know. What, though, he had to wonder.

A sinister smile played on his lips.

"House?" Wilson asked, cautious. "Who's hiding what?"

He ignored Wilson, choosing to look at the scenes being replayed in his mind, like a diagnostic process, symptoms and clues and signs waiting for him in corners, taunting him now that he had the answer that lead to another question that would lead to the ultimate answer.

"You're not hearing me now, are you?" Wilson said, resigned. "And you're about to leave…"

House grinned. "Of course not."

Wilson's eyebrow shot up, "Okay?"

"She's hiding something," he said again. "Something _she _**doesn't **want _me _to know."

"Who? Cuddy?"

"Yes."

"Ah, of course," Wilson nodded. "To save you the trouble, I'll tell you: she's been stealing bits of cash and putting it in a secret account for a new Ferrari. I think she likes it in Jungle Red."

House grinned wider, "You don't know, but you want to know."

"No."

"Yes," House smiled, sinister and something that would have had the woman in question running straight for the hills and beyond in her favorite pair of Jimmy Choos. "And I will."

He shoved the piles of green off his plate, some of them onto Wilson's across the table. With a triumphant grin, he took a chunk off the steak with his fork and ate it with pleasure.

Cuddy was hiding something, something she didn't want House to know.

And now that he knew he wasn't supposed to know, naturally, he _wanted_ to know.

It was a cosmic rule in the world of Greg House, it was the _law_. He _had _to know. And finding out was going to be one of a ride, he could tell.

This was going to be fun.

-o0o-

"Way to be discreet," Tim said, tucking herself back into her coat. "I'm _sure _your big baby won't be curious after you just chewed his mangy head off."

"Shut up," Cuddy snapped, seething silently. "I lost control, I don't know why, but I did and damn it, I hate myself for that."

"What are you going to do about it?" Tim asked as she handed Cuddy her coat and scarf. "Tie him down until he swears he won't go snooping like we know he will?"

"I don't know," she muttered. "One thing I can do is avoid him. Lucas…he can find out something, Tim. I don't know what, but he might."

Tim scoffed and she wondered if it was more for her benefit because she didn't want her to worry or she really didn't believe the private investigator could find anything. "He won't, Lisa. We made sure of that. You know it, I know it and we made sure of it."

Cuddy slipped on her coat, scarf around her neck now, a frown on her face. On better days, she would be more comfortable believing Tim, but after realizing Lucas Douglas was in on House's game, she knew she was in trouble. The guy sucked at lying, but it was no doubt he _knew _how to do his job. She'd known that much after one meal with him.

She hoped he wasn't as good as she feared.

"Look," Tim hissed not cuttingly, but just to silence the voices she knew would be in Cuddy's head. "We took care of everything, okay? Even the goddamned internet will give him anything. My history and yours as a Foxworth—gone. Your records in Isadora, _sealed_. Nathan's history with you as Lisa Cuddy is non-existent. As far as everyone knows, everyone _we _knew twenty years ago—Elise Foxworth went to college in some remote, non-Ivy League school and disappeared. Elliot never talks about you, not even to his girlfriends, not to the press, not to anyone." Her eyes bore into hers, "As far as anyone knows, _Lisa_, Elise Audrina Foxworth either ran away from home or is already _dead_."

Cuddy felt her knees go weak at the last claim. It wasn't so comforting to be declared dead even though not quite literally, but it was a fact she needed to get used to for she had done it herself, let it happen herself by choice. "She _is _dead."

"Yes," Tim nodded. "She is. You don't have anything to worry about. We took care of it."

Cuddy nodded, remembering all the painstaking measures they'd taken, _all _of them—Tim, Elliot, even the reluctant Nathan and _Lisa_. It was difficult in so many ways, like helping someone die or like pulling the trigger, especially for Nathan and Elliot. Tim supported her decision, understood her state of mind then and now, but to Elliot, he was as good as losing his baby sister while for Nathan, losing the person he'd always planned to spend his life with.

Things changed through the years they spent covering everything, tears were shed and goodbyes that sounded like the end of everything were said. Lisa went on with her new life, Elliot stayed behind, wishing he could keep her, Nathan stole away with his wounds and Tim stayed like a shadow of comfort.

Elliot had done everything he could within his power, which included practically lying about what really happened to her. Cuddy had seen the articles, the dodged questions and small excerpts about the sister no one seemed to know where to find. It was true, people figured she died or just left without a word, which was the way they had subconsciously planned. Money, time, accurate planning and nights and days worth in so many ways were spent with no wasted thought. Elliot wanted his sister happy, he would do anything for it and he did.

He let her go, with a promise she would return one day and check in time to time. She kept the latter, the former she was probably about to do now.

And it scared the hell out of her.

Cuddy liked her life the way it was, despite recent events that seem to have nearly ripped her heart out, but at the same time Elliot belonging in her old life made her _want _to go back, if only just for him. In her naïve-like thoughts, she wished she could just bring Elliot into her world. Damien Foxworth and his wife didn't need his children. Elliot and Lisa would get by together, no matter how long or short time they had left.

Yes, she would beg and plead with Elliot to fight, she would tell him the truth—she wasn't ready to lose him yet. In many ways, she was still his baby sister and to be completely alone was not something she was ready for.

Cuddy would willingly admit she was selfish enough to beg him to do that.

_Beg him, on her knees, not to die and leave her alone even though she almost as good as did the same to him._

Distance was one thing, to have her only family left buried six-feet under was something more, something she wasn't ready to face now or ever.

Of course, she was afraid of the repercussions of what may come once her history was revealed to everyone around. So many people would be affected, her stability and everything she'd worked for would be touched.

Lucas finding something was dangerous in itself, especially since House was the one holding his leash. Cuddy was afraid for so many things.

She's spent most of her life, _this _life, waiting for the other shoe to drop and now that it was dangerously on the edge of happening, she was in a hopeless mess of lost.

What they had done, everything they did together to stop what seemed like an inevitable now, was it enough? She hoped.

"Lisa," Tim said, using her name to let her know she was truly serious. "If anything goes wrong, you _know _we will be right behind you, every step of the way, even Nathan. We wouldn't let anything ruin your life. If push comes to shove, we _will _deal with the PI ourselves."

Cuddy opened her mouth, shocked and ready to ask what she meant by _deal _with Lucas. Tim was known for so many daring things and she was only scared what she was prepared to do.

Tim held on to her arm, "Everyone has a price."

Relieved, for many reasons, Cuddy nodded almost numbly.

"You're going to be okay," Tim promised. "We're always with you."

Her ungloved hand squeezed Cuddy's equally bare one in comfort and for now, it was enough to reassure her that come what may, they had each other as always.

Forever and always.

Cuddy would move on with Tim for lunch, take her mind away from everything except her pending meeting with the board about her other unruly doctor, unknowing that tomorrow would be a different story, that tomorrow everything would be challenged and she would be facing things she hadn't anticipated from the moment Nathan walked back into her life.

Things would change, promises and bonds would be broken and damaged.

And at the end of the next day, someone was going to be alone, someone was going to be hurt, someone was going to suffer, someone was going to regret and wish for things too late.

If Cuddy had known now what she would know tomorrow, maybe she wouldn't have sat so assured today.

_If only._

-o0o0o0o0o-

Okay, this took forever. Major writer's block, but the next chapter has been mapped out as well as the one after that. Writer's block won't have much chance, I promise.

Hm…I finished the memory, but failed to fit in my promised House/Tim/piano scene.

Next chapter, I promise.

And I _know _promised Huddy scenes…for the "now", but at the last moment I changed my plans. Cuddy was a lot pissed off, but soon, that will probably change. Lots of Huddy angst, especially for the next day—the day Cuddy goes to New York. She _will _see House before leaving and maybe _after _she comes back. (see more below)

Oh, and the patient will have to wait. Hey, at least she won't die.

And no one guessed the 'Vancouver' insert!? Huddy, huddy, huddy.

**Locked In**

Totally awesome. House seeing a shrink _and _Cuddy being openly affectionate—one scene but it so makes up for it! Fabulous.

**Simple Explanation**

*sobs* no more Kutner and he was my favorite fellow! Damn it, why do the good ones have to go? Sure, Kal's got that Obama thing, but it sucks! Killing himself was just hard. The last scene, the service, was so sad. And the Huddy scenes too, they were affectionate and intimate in so many comforting ways…it's still sad. I mourn for Kutner.

Rest in peace, Dr. Lawrence Kutner.

**Replies**

As always, thank you for the reviews! Always great and always a booster—I hope you forgive me for changing my previous plans for this story though. I know I let you guys down at some point.

_ChanelBesos _The Butter story will be revealed and as for Barbara…she's one evil lady, I swear. I'm glad you liked this chapter! Thank you as always. I'm still worried about what readers think, oh well, who knows? I shouldn't probably. I like writing this fic, I think I should be content with that…huh, does that make sense? LOL and as for the job? So awesome! Teehee… I get to blab my mouth off and even mentioned House in one discussion. It's great, it's more than I'd expected! I love my new job, too bad it's just for the summer.

_emzypemzy _I'm sure you're just reading this after getting back from your trip. I have a thousand replies to send back to you from here, the PMs and FP! So many to write, so many to gush and flail about. Simple Explanation and Kutner broke my heart.

_houselover1_ ohmygod, I thought I was the only one who went out for the Happy Meal! LOL I've got it in front of me right now! Yay, I am not alone! I hope you got yours too. As you see, I've finished the memory. I hope you don't hate it! Thank you for reading. I'm sorry about the cliff hanger, but it got so long I had to chop it in half and move on to the next chapter with it! I hope it didn't disappoint. Thank you for the good wishes, by the way, the job is awesome, I'm having a total blast!

_Kakashifangrl1012 _you've got the memory, I hope you like it! I'm very relieved you like my version of Lucas…I've noticed I've been turning the minor characters different than they are in the show, I'm glad you're happy with them, that's one great big load off my back. I apologize the House/Tim/piano scene isn't here, but next I promise it'll be there and _House and Tim will have a conversation about Lisa_. I'm also glad you loved the Edna Mode insert. I love that woman!  
And in true Huddy fan form, I too loved that scene "If she turns around…" that was absolutely hilarious! I think it's just beautiful to see Cuddy so open about her affection for him. No more hiding now, it's just perfect. As for the last scene, a lot of theories are flying about that but the best explanation I've gotten was from a new friend, Evie (aka PotterGal from fanpop). She thinks that it was symbolic, the way they blurred the Wilson scene 'you're gonna end up alone' in a way saying or showing House is 'locked in' when it comes to his emotions. I wonder if Wilson did say it thought or House imagined or hallucinated it. PG's theory sounds smarter than that, I promise, she's great, I just really suck at summarizing what isn't mine.

_Shikabane-Mai _LOL I don't mind you reviewing late. It's okay, as long as you guys are still reading and you still like, it's great. (although I won't lie that I love reviews because that would be me being a hypocrite) You love Lucas, I'm very happy—it's a bonus you like him agreeing with Wilson! I hope I didn't disappoint you in this chapter with the lack of Huddy-interaction like I promised previously. I'm a bad, bad, bad person. Sorry! Soon, things will get Huddy though—with a touch of angst mostly, I should warn you.  
And you've read the end of the memory, what do you think? It wasn't too terrible, right? I hope now. LOL great to see you around fanpop, by the way, that place is just awesome! It's like a Huddy paradise where Huddy fans don't get abused or run over.

_Anyway, that's it. I hope you guys liked this chapter. The next one, Tim and House with a piano, I promise that it'll be there this time. Promise. I hope you guys keep reading and reviewing!_

I'm shamelessly and probably quite desperately going to bribe you guys for reviews with this:

Spoilers:

_Cuddy and Tim _will _be in a gentlemen's club-esque place as originally planned __**but **__someone in the hospital will see them. - - - feel free to guess._

_House will see Cuddy before she leaves for New York._

_Lisa finds out the truth when she finally sees Elliot again. And think: 'in every action there is an equal and opposite reaction'…the changes will come and it'll give way to Huddy._

_Tim will return to Jersey and PPTH._

There you go. Not much, sounds boring, but I promise it won't be. I'm not the greatest writer, but I'm not _that _bad, right? I can only hope.

_Someone to Save You _by _One Republic_


	20. Chapter 19: Untouched

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING. Supposedly, this is the first week of December.

Warning: Maybe not so much a warning, but whatever. _Note _people that since it's really dragging, I've decided to pace this a wee bit faster. No more play by play scenes, unless you guys ask for it, okay? Oh and by the way, **I've opened a new poll on my profile. It would be great if you guys voted because it has something to do with how this story will progress. Yes, I'm actually giving you guys the opportunity to control what happens here. Choose wisely, people—every vote counts! **_Cheesy, I know._

Note: A **huge **thank you to everyone by the way. I got slap happy when I reached fifty reviews, I got happy-high when I got to one-hundred and now that I've gone past two-hundred I've experienced cosmic-bliss! Thank you so much! You are all so awesome--I totally love you all.

Chapter Nineteen: Untouched

"What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit in your office and knit?" Tim whined as Lisa walked ahead of her through the Clinic. She didn't make an effort to lower her voice. People told her when she was young it was not attractive to whine and throw tantrums but she did anyway so she didn't see any reason to stop now.

They'd spent lunch at Leighton's, a chic new restaurant that opened five weeks prior a few blocks from the hospital. They'd taken Cuddy's car, at the doctor's order, because she didn't want to be caught by anyone in her staff or possibly one of their donors in a sleek expensive sports car. Tim had agreed, begrudgingly about leaving her new baby alone.

Lunch was used for discussing the reasons why Cuddy hadn't slept with her crippled employee yet—_and _cue in Tim's cripple and tripod insults, causing the other woman to claim she was just as bad as him to which she replied cheekily _No, darling, I'm worst_—and her reasons consisted, predictably, of the usual rules and how it wouldn't look good for her to be sleeping with her most caustic employee and subordinate.

But Tim shrugged it off with her usual, _It's your sex life, you can fuck whoever you want. Do they want a frustrated and dried up Administrator? They're wasting great sex on a hot piece like you!_

And she got smacked on the arm for that.

Now they were debating what she was going to do while locked up in a hospital.

"Call your theater, see what they're doing," Lisa dismissed, passing her assistant with a friendly wave and grabbing a small pile of papers. "Or write something, if not, listen to music—I don't know, Tim, just stay and don't burn the place down."

"For the love of God! When did you become so controlling?" Tim cried, plopping herself back onto the couch she seemed to be getting very well acquainted with. "I liked you better when you were fucked up. _And_ I need a smoke bad, where do I get one around here?"

"I always took you for a pack in the bag kind of girl," Lisa muttered, hanging her coat and scarf as well as Tim's coat which she had discarded on the floor at entry like a true drama queen. "And this is a hospital, you think we hand out free packs of Lucky Strikes?"

"If you did, you'd be the best hospital of the east coast," Tim muttered. She was really itching for a smoke. "How about something to drink? You got any, boss? I'm sure you do."

"Nope," Lisa said, a little too chirpily for Tim's taste. "Unless you mean milk and orange juice from Pediatrics, baby formula from the NICU or the soda from the machines outside; we have those."

"Bitch," Tim mumbled, earning herself a cheeky grin from the doctor behind her desk. "How about mouthwash? Those icky stuff…"

"Huh?" Lisa looked up from her pieces of paper. "I've got a spare toothbrush…"

"No, I mean mouthwash," Tim said, her back pressed against the white couch.

"What for? I think brushing your teeth would be better…"

"The ones with ten percent alcohol," Tim deadpanned seriously.

Lisa laughed, tossing her head back.

"I'm not kidding," she frowned at the laughing woman. "I need a drink!"

"You had wine five minutes ago," Lisa admonished through her giggles. "And I am not giving you enough mouthwash to get you drunk. That's stupid although a bit funny."

"Then what do I do?" Tim asked desperately. "You're gonna go play grown up and leave me behind. That's very bad form, Dr. Cuddy."

"I need to be in this meeting since _I _called it," Lisa said. "I need to get that leech out of this hospital before he kills a patient whose family will end up owning this hospital and turn this into a parking lot or something equally as stupid and useless."

Tim looked around, "Oh, come on now, sweetie. I'm sure this place will look great as a mini-mall."

The look shot at her would have been enough to ultimately defeat Medusa in less than a second. Of course, Tim knew it well, touch anything _but _the hospital—Lisa Cuddy's hospital. She snickered, not at all fazed by the brunette.

"It's almost one thirty," Lisa groaned. "Damn it, how long did we spend talking about not sleeping with House? Seriously, Tim?"

"About as long as it would have taken to make up for _less _than one fourth of all the years you missed not having sex," Tim said, shaking her head. "I mean, I love you, honey, and I honestly love you enough to want to have a man shove his toy down your love tunnel."

"Can you be any more crude?" Lisa moaned.

"Yes, I can," Tim said. "I'll rephrase: I can't wait to have a guy shove his dick—"

"Shut up!"

Tim cackled, thoroughly enjoying herself now. It was always fun to annoy Lisa. It was something she missed doing on a daily basis.

Stomping out of the room with her high heels, Lisa pulled open the door. "Cody, I need Dr. Joseph Eckley's employee profile for the meeting. Could you have HR deliver—oh!"

Tim looked up, wondering what was up now, listening.

"I figured you would need it," she heard the young assistant say.

"Thank you," Lisa said gratefully. "How was lunch?"

"Nurse Brenda is spinning over the whole thing with Dr. House from yesterday," Cody said. "The paperweight incident."

"Oh," Lisa's voice dropped. "Right. I'm sure she would have loved to see that."

"Or to have done it herself," Cody said with a slight laugh.

Lisa chuckled, "Her and the rest of the nursing staff. Well, thank you, Cody, I do not know what I would do without you now."

"You're welcome, Dr. Cuddy."

Slipping back into the room with a folder in hand, Tim watched Lisa take her seat behind her desk again. "What was that all about?"

"Huh?" Lisa looked up from her file.

"What paperweight incident?"

"Oh," Lisa's cheeks went red. "Nothing, just a thing with House yesterday…"

"That involved a paperweight?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

Lisa's cheeks reddened, "I lost control and threw it at him."

"Threw it _at _him?"

Lisa shook her head but said, "Yes."

"Huh, I think…" Tim placed a hand over her heart. "I'm going to cry."

Lisa looked up, frowning. "Artemis."

"I'm not kidding," Tim said seriously. "Honestly, I don't have to be here every damned day to know what that man deserves. I don't give a rat's ass if he's a brilliant doctor or he's the goddamned Pope. He deserved it and more, for all the hell he puts you through professionally and personally on the daily basis."

"He's not so bad."

"He's as needy as a five-year-old who thinks tantrums are the easiest way to get what he wants," Tim accused, frowning. "You should be sainted for not having killed him yet."

"You need to be Catholic to be sainted," Lisa murmured.

"In this case, I don't think they'll care," Tim scoffed. "But if they do, put them in one room with him, hell, put the Pope in one room with him and they'll have the first Pope to ever be acquitted of murder! Mother Teresa was damned lucky she never crossed the likes of Greg House."

Lisa shook her head, looking confused. "What is up with you and Catholics today?"

"Eh," Tim shrugged one shoulder. "I got tired of making fun of Jews."

Lisa grinned, "Oh, good for you then."

"Stoning and burning at the stake—now those were fun," Tim cackled. "The Catholics and Puritans had that undeniable flair for the dramatics."

"Yes," Lisa said, distracted now as she read through the file in front of her. "I heard they're still reeling about their last failed attempt to burn you to hell for being a witch."

"And look how well that turned out," Tim said cheekily then motioned to herself. "Still fabulous."

"Mhm," Lisa said, turning a page in the file. "You know what…"

"What?" Tim asked.

"There's an empty lecture room in the Ivy Hall," Lisa said as she read through the file. "If you want, you can use that. I don't think anyone is scheduled in the Ivy Hall right now. It's mostly usually for guest speakers and seminars."

"And what would I want in an empty room?" Tim asked, rolling her eyes. "Unless you have a hot doctor with his stethoscope…I'm pretty into the whole role playing deal."

Lisa snorted in a very unladylike manner. "No, but there is a piano in there nobody—well, except House sometimes—uses and I'm pretty sure House hasn't been in there for a while."

"Why do you have a piano in a lecture hall?"

Lisa shrugged, "House used it when he had his own version of Survivor-doctors edition months ago. It's hospital property and I got tired of moving it around I let it stay there. It's quiet and it's a good room with great lighting and space, you can work in there or make calls to your theater."

Tim thought for a moment, "House plays the piano…I forgot."

"Yes, he does," Lisa said, looking at her with a smile. "He's very good, Tim, you should hear him play…he plays beautifully."

"Does he play like…"

Lisa nodded, "Yes, he does...it's like being home all over again."

Tim cocked her head to the side, realizing.

"The first time I ever heard him play, I wanted to run away," she confessed. "It was like being there, all over again, after just beginning to walk away." She sighed. "But then he switched to this…unfinished piece. He wrote it when he was in Junior High, but couldn't finish."

"That's probably not all he can't finish," Tim mumbled but quickly silenced at the look she was given. "Did he ever finish the piece?"

Lisa shook her head, "No, but I'd ask him to play it constantly and it always frustrated him how he kept playing and playing an unfinished song. He did it anyway."

Tim watched her, "So he doesn't know…"

Lisa shook her head slightly, "No, of course not. That would have lead to questions and the questions would have lead to answers I wasn't prepared to give. Even back then he had that obsession with finding out the truth and the stories behind the curtains…"

"So he doesn't know anything," Tim clarified. "Not even about your mother."

_Your mother _was something she used, they both knew, when she felt she couldn't say her name. Some days, it was just too hard and today, seeing the way Lisa was suffering in so many ways emotionally today, it was harder than it has been for quite some time now.

Shaking her thoughts away, Tim focused on Lisa instead.

_The dead can wait, the living cannot._

"As far as he knows…" their eyes met. "She's still alive."

"I remember you talking about him," Tim mused, remembering all the phone calls and letters when she couldn't fly out to Michigan or when she was too busy running around the city for new thrills. "You sounded so animated all the time, talking about the jackass med student with a book who got kicked out of Hopkins." She smiled, "For a while he was just the 'ass' or the 'jerk', then later, he became a Greg. You were happy."

"I was," Lisa nodded then turned away. "I was happy."

"You always sounded so sure, always talked like he was the best thing in your life," Tim said gently. "You talked like he was the one for you…at that time, you sounded so sure."

Tim didn't have to mention that at the time, she'd been glad that Lisa had moved on from Nathan and the life. It was what she'd been waiting for the moment Lisa stepped out of her high school graduation gown. That time, when Greg was the subject of each phone call, Tim was relieved Nathan had been forgotten, if only for a moment.

Lisa needed to forget him to forget everything else.

"I thought about it for a bit," Lisa confessed. "I did and he was great, he made me happy, taught me so many extraordinary things. He was…amazing, but while that was great he was also as closed off as…me." She sighed. "We talked, constantly about anything and everything except personal stuff. I never knew about his mother, his father or where he came from other than they hopped military bases…"

"He never told you a thing," Tim followed. "So you didn't tell him anything."

"I knew," Lisa said, shaking her head and biting her bottom lip. "I knew, even right from the beginning…we weren't going to last. I knew Greg, he wasn't going to stay in one place—he wasn't the type. I knew Michigan would bore him eventually and I accepted it."

"No," Tim said, slowly, her mind turning as her thoughts processed. "You _prepared_ for it."

"Yes," Lisa admitted. "He was great, in every way, but I also knew he was going to leave me…eventually. So I didn't think it was worth telling him." A wistful smile appeared on her face. "It was clear to me our time was short and I didn't want to waste it talking about everything that I was trying to forget and leave behind."

"You were scared," Tim said, realizing.

"For many reasons," Lisa said and Tim could see the faraway look in her eyes as she leant back in her seat, staring at the ceiling blindly. "He was the first guy I'd ever truly looked at and talked to…and in so many ways, he wasn't Nathan and that made things easier, I guess."

"Then the conversations stopped," Tim said. "You stopped talking about him."

"Because by then he was gone," Lisa said. "And by then I'd accepted it."

"Then he came back…"

With that woman on his arm, screaming on a gurney in New Jersey and drowning in pain. Tim knew the story, but not in detail. She knew he came in after having not seen Lisa in years with no word or a letter or a phone call. Had Lisa been Tim, she would have turned him away, but no, not Lisa. She took him in, gave him to a reliable doctor knowing she couldn't be his attending and watched over him from the sidelines.

Tim also knew Lisa comforted his terrified girlfriend like a friend would—Tim knew a lot about her, knew her name was Stacy, she was Southern, knew she was a lawyer, knew she was deeply in love with Greg House and knew she was a beautiful woman.

She also knew that despite all of that, Lisa actually liked her.

It was stupid, in so many ways, and so Lisa at the same time. She didn't have it in her to hate the woman who had the man she fell in love with when she was seventeen, couldn't blame her for being beautiful, smart and be the one he wanted. Lisa couldn't fault her for all of that.

A martyr, a romantic and at the same time infuriatingly understanding, Tim would have loved o let the Southern lawyer suffer in a corner alone, but not Lisa. God, not Lisa.

She sat with the woman, comforted her, told her they were doing everything they can, that House was going to be okay, that things weren't as bad as they looked and all that bull filled with false hope that both women knew but took solace in.

The story was as old, forgotten in some areas, but Tim remembered almost everything. Lisa stepped in as House's attending too late, only then taking her place when it was time to choose the toughest of choices.

It involved a lot of tears and a lot of phone calls. Tim was in California that time, wanting to come then only to have Lisa tell her she rather she didn't. She was stubborn and pig headed, she wanted to do it alone so Tim bowed out once more—grudgingly and cursing like a trucker.

The thigh muscle was removed, so was Stacy's place by Greg House's side. Lisa witnessed the last time he said he loved her and her own suffering began—in a very bitter, very angry Greg House's hands and tongue.

House had not been kind to anyone at the end and Lisa had taken most of the hit—especially after Stacy left and she took it without complaints, without breaking. Tim offered to come again after hearing her cry over the phone another night, but Lisa once again refused.

Tim wanted to come and cut the damned leg off herself, if not, take a gun and shoot him for being an ungrateful son of a bitch. She wanted to end his misery just to end Lisa's because she didn't deserve to be punished for saving a life, for caring.

But she didn't, knowing it would have hurt Lisa more that him.

The next time Lisa called, Tim was back in Manhattan, and Lisa was drunk and a little out of tears. Tim had persuaded her to come back to New York, to leave it all behind. She didn't deserve it, any of it because _she _saved his life after all. It wasn't her fault Stacy was too weak to face what she knew was coming to her.

And Lisa almost said yes.

Through her pain, House's torture, the sleepless nights, the guilt, the tears, the self-loathing—Lisa was _very _close to saying yes, to packing her bag, to taking her old apartment in Manhattan.

She said she'd think about it, give her a few days.

Only to have the next day come and pass, Lisa called again that night, sounding _happy_. She can't come back to New York now. And maybe not for a while too—she was positively giddy—and Tim felt herself grow cold and at the same time ready to explode.

"_They just promoted me—Dean of Medicine, Chief Administrator of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Tim! Can you believe it? _Second _youngest and _first _**woman**__ to ever get this prestigious position in the country—Tim, I did it! Oh, my god."_

And again, Tim settled back and said she was happy for her. The next night, she was over at Lisa's house with a three bottles of Cristal, a male stripper—who Lisa paid and kicked out promptly after realizing _what _he was there for—and cake with _"The Bitch for the Win"_ written in red and gold icing across the deep-brown chocolate surface.

They both woke up hungover the next morning with Tim crawling on her hands and knees to the bathroom, but Lisa smiling and groaning at the same time at six in the morning, ready for her day.

"But everything looks okay between you," Tim conceded. "I mean, he's still an ass, but he doesn't seem too bitter now."

"We learned to live with it," Lisa admitted. "He makes me miserable, I make him miserable, Wilson becomes miserable and intervenes…he gets his pills, his puzzles and his scotch along with his piano, he's okay."

"And you?"

Lisa smiled and Tim could swear she saw a hint of melancholy there. "Here, still here."

Tim's mind began to analyze Lisa as she sat there, leaning back against her seat, eyes glued to the ceiling, hands loosely entwined on her lap. The way she looked, she looked as if she was reliving a memory—or memories—but her body was relaxed, which meant the memory was a good one. Tim wondered.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

They both looked up, Lisa turned her chair towards the door and her assistant stood there, smiling slightly. "Yes, Cody?"

"It's ten past one," Cody said. "Dr. Wilson called to let you know he'll see you at the meeting. Dr. Schuler and Dr. Matthews already called in to say they're on their way."

Lisa smiled, "Thank you, Cody. If anyone else calls, please tell them I'm on my way."

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy," the girl smiled and slipped out.

"It's times like this when I want to hate you," Tim said, staring at the door. "It's got to be some cosmic rule that us boss bitches should make our assistant's lives miserable."

"Cody is a good girl," Lisa said, shaking her head. "And I actually like being nice to my assistants—the work I give them is hell enough." She flipped her hair to the side, "Besides, I don't take those flighty undefined-gender assistants like you do anyway."

Tim thought for a moment, head cocked to the side, "True. I guess."

"I'm leaving you in Cody's capable hands," Lisa said as she gathered the file she'd been flipping through. "The meeting should be quick—it's just going to be a discussion about this insipid doctor and maybe the coming holidays in two weeks."

"I understand, _mother_," she said like the true brat she was. Lisa wasn't opening up about the baby room she had hidden in her house so Tim was going to pretend everything was normal and she was going to act the way she was. Lisa would open up in time. "I'm sure Cody is an excellent baby sitter."

"Yes, she is," Lisa replied as if she was talking to a five-year-old. "Now, behave and mommy will see you later and if you're good, I'll buy you ice cream."

"With choc' syrup and sprinkles?" Tim played along, bouncing on her heels.

"If you're extra good," Lisa said condescendingly. "I'm going. If you need anything call for Cody, if not then go play or something—just don't leave the hospital."

"Yes, mother" Tim said obediently. "Can I grab a Lucky?"

"Sure," Lisa said, pressing her folder to her chest and turning to her. "If you want to wind up with your skin falling off piece by piece through cancer…"

Tim's mind instantly conjured up the image like the traitor it was. She gagged, pressing her hand to her mouth, "Oh, shit…"

"Yes, indeed," Lisa nodded. "Shit. Now," she headed out. "Behave, okay? I already have one rogue lunatic in this place, please do not make me regret asking you to come here."

"I'll be on my best behavior," Tim said, holding up a hand with three fingers up. "Scouts honor!"

"Wrong hand," was all Lisa said, grabbing her doctor's coat and slipping out.

Tim looked at her left hand then pouted, "Whatever."

Sighing, she plopped herself back down on the couch. She wrinkled her nose. It was too white. She hated white. The couch was almost the same as the one she had at her place, but it was black leather. Leave it to Lisa to pick what Tim didn't like.

Humming in uneven tones, she looked around at the pristine office, lips puckered in one corner of her face. The place had Lisa Cuddy all over it as well as parts of Elise.

It was too clean.

Tim wasn't a slob, not really, but she wasn't into this type of cleanness either. It was too sterile, too impersonal from the impeccable glass tables, to the modern design chairs to the white couch—the place reeked of doctor and hospital.

In some ways, the style was Lisa, but at the same time it lacked the warmth her old office had.

She'd seen the first one before—the wood, the antique furniture and the earth tones. She remembered them well, and in all honesty, she preferred the old one.

This new office reeked of Lisa trying to blot away any wrinkles in her life with a pristine white office. It lacked real character, for some reason, in Tim's eyes.

Her eyes drifted through the room and eventually let them fall to the desk by the windows.

At least something had character.

The desk was nice, and somewhat familiar, though she couldn't place where she'd seen it. She figured she would have to ask Lisa later if by then she still couldn't remember. It was a nice desk, with the mahogany tones, the flawless finishing and the whole ensemble itself.

It was Lisa.

Tim sighed. What was she doing? Sitting and lounging in Lisa's office, staring at a desk cluttered with paperwork while she could be running her theater or at least beating the crap out of Nathan Winslow, the idiot who pushed her into this corner full of lies.

Nathan.

The truth was, they didn't really hate each other in the beginning. She accepted it before that while he may not be her ideal guy, he was in Elise's life just as Tim was. They argued, they made fun of each other, they tortured each other, but they could still exist in one room without killing each other. Not like now when she couldn't stand the sight of the man.

Another truth was, she really didn't _truly _hate him. Not really, at least. It had more to do with Lisa and the past. Nathan, in all logic and reason, hadn't truly done anything wrong—or, at least, hadn't intentionally done anything.

But the fact was, he helped shape the events in their lives that lead to the changes that none of them had ever imagined.

Nathan wasn't bad, he was pathetic in some ways, but he wasn't bad. Not really.

It was just Tim couldn't bear to face him each day without remembering.

He helped, in ways he didn't even know, with Tim's failure to keep her promises to Elise. Nathan, sweet naïve and innocent Nathan, had helped Tim's failure take place.

It wasn't his fault entirely, but for Tim, in her own selfish ways and at the same time, to keep from going insane, she needed to blame him for some things just as she blamed herself.

They all had a hand in Elise's life and the changes that took place, however indirect, they all had a hand in it. Even Elliot who, in his tortured ways, had accepted his faults as well which explained his devotion and unfailing loyalty to his sister.

_Loyalty…_

Tim felt her heart constrict. Loyalty, devotion, love, care and trust—in so many ways, she and Lisa could have been married to each other just without the actual papers. Of course, Tim snickered, that sounded wrong and Freudian in so many ways, but it was true.

And tomorrow she would see, if she'd been a faithful enough other half.

Lisa would see just how much Tim had done, see what she'd been forced to do in less that seventy-two hours. Tim's lies, her first, would be exposed. Lisa would know she'd broken their trust, their promises. Lisa would know everything.

Who knows what would come tomorrow?

They've never kept anything this big, this damaging from each other before.

A part of her fears greatly how Lisa would take it, though as well as she knew her, another part of her, the detached logical part told her Lisa would react the way she knew how.

They'd known each other so well that it was okay to throw tantrums and scream at each other like they used to when they were children. Lisa could get angry. Lisa could lash out, Lisa could…do anything the moment called for her to do.

And it terrified Tim.

A part of her somehow already knows Lisa was going to be too hurt and angry tomorrow.

And she was sorry as hell.

Tim would work hard, work to death if needed, to gain Lisa's trust back, to make her understand _why_ and how much Tim wanted so much to tell her.

If there was something

God only knows if they were going to make it through this.

Things that involved Damien Foxworth and Barbara _the Barbarian_ Bennett never spelled good things, especially not for Lisa.

Tomorrow, God only knows, and for so many reasons, Tim wished she could get up there and ask Him herself. That way, she would know.

That way, she could prepare.

But could she ever prepare losing her only family?

-o0o-

House was bored.

Wilson had just left him to get to the board meeting that, for once, wasn't called out of the blue by Cuddy because of him. He'd met Joseph Eckley a few times and didn't like him too so it was easily 'Sayonara' and 'Adios' for him. House wasn't going to shed a tear—not like he could anyway—and he sure as hell wasn't buying a cake.

But now he was bored. Cuddy was un-bother-able at the moment and he wasn't in the mood to play with his Sony PSP, he left his guitar at home for some minor tuning problems and there was no way in hell he was going down to do his Clinic duty.

So he was bored.

Except for the thoughts about Cuddy and her sudden mood change—she was definitely in cuckoo mood these days ranging from violence to outright hostility.

Leaning back in his ridiculously comfortable Eames chair with his feet up, faithful cane at his side, he realized for once it didn't bother him that his relatively new team wasn't as clingy as his previous one. Never did he believe that one day he would be thankful he'd have an independent bunch of fellows.

With that thought and with his eyes closed, he ran his own differential diagnosis on Cuddy.

_Mood swings_

_Sudden-onset rage_

_Lack of control_

_Hostility_

_Impatience_

_Intermittent-bitchiness_

Or maybe the bitchiness wasn't intermittent. Most days, especially on that particular time of the month, she really was a bitch. With all those Clinic hours, those power-plays, those high heels—yes, she was. He blamed it on her being buddy-buddy with that Nurse Brainded-Brenda, the stupid hag. He never did take to her. Then again, who could other than that sissy husband of hers? It amazed him she managed to reel some_thing_ in.

_Stranger things have happened._

Basically, he just hated the Cuddy-wannabe butt wiper.

But he couldn't be bothered by her now or ever. She was really just an irritating little speck in his life. He made a note to write a letter to Princeton General for a head nurse application. He was sure her signature and last name weren't hard to forge.

That would have to wait for now though.

He had a case to take care of. He listed the words in his head and rolled his eyes as he added two more:

_Bitch Best Friend_

_Lying Bastard Lawyer_

Of course, if he could he would add more but then that would probably take the remaining half of the day. He was, after all, a man of many words.

Watching Cuddy in her office with her best friend before getting kicked out had been interesting. Of course, he'd gone over the line, accusing her about wanting to sleep with the stranger, but House knew that somewhere in that conversation, long before he'd accused her of anything, something had already raised her hackles and added fuel to her rage.

He didn't know what but he was sure he missed something.

And it was goddamned frustrating.

"House."

Eyes opening wide with frustration beginning to seep in again, he grumbled, "Whatever happened to being fiercely independent and non-fearing?"

"Sorry, patient presented new symptoms," Thirteen said, nonplussed as always in her stoic form. "Excuse us for being not as brilliant as you."

"My, Mrs. Foreteen, are you trying to seduce me?" he said sarcastically, matching her sarcasm as always. For matching him almost step by step in sarcasm and wit, they were reasons enough to keep her. Plus, the fact that she was Switzerland in the sexual reference department didn't hurt either. "Careful, Mr. Foreman might hear you…"

"Patient complained of severe headaches," Thirteen said, still unmoved by his wit. "And as well as visual and auditory hallucinations…we don't know what's wrong with her."

"That sounds like a brain thing," House said. "Page Foreman, transport him away from the land of false hope and get him in here."

"Could be alcoholism," Taub said from behind Thirteen. "She could be crawling out of the bottle."

"Patient history does not dictate her drinking _anything _other than healthy things," Kutner said. "It could be AIP…"

"Doesn't explain the tremors and high BP and there's no abdominal pain," Thirteen countered. "And the test for gallstones came back negative."

"And of course, since patients are always so honest, we can immediately cross out alcoholism," Taub said sarcastically. "For all we knew she's been downing scotch every before or after class or both, if she's a believer in not wasting time."

"She's clean," Kutner insisted. "She's a dance teacher, I think the kids or her boyfriend would notice if she was walking around in a series of Z's and X's and dancing drunk."

"What about when she's home alone or when she's…"

"It's _not _alcoholism," House cut Taub's argument off. The little nut was always so eager to argue—House would have to explain it to the group later it was his way of making up for his _short_ness. "And don't think about arguing—it'll only end up in one way, me calling you an idiot."

Taub shook his head, "Then how about Briquet Syndrome?"

"Have we been seeing the same patient?" Thirteen asked, waving her hand at the shorter man. "She's a _dance _teacher tokids—Briquet Syndrome's known symptoms include _antisocial _behavior and I don't think dancing with kids and putting shows up for proud parents fits that symptom."

"What about Wolfram's Disease?" Kutner asked.

"That's a rare genetic disorder," Thirteen said slowly. "There's no treatment for that. You don't really think…"

"High BP and rapid heart rate could be caused by anxiety," Kutner explained. "The hallucinations could have been from agitation, paranoia and even hostility or some hearing loss replaced by auditory hallucinations. Fever could be just a fever after our previous diagnosis, a side effect while the sweating could be from everything else—increased activity, emotions, nerves. Lots of things."

"She's thirty-four years old," Taub said. "The life expectancy for Wolfram's, if I'm not mistaken, is thirty years. You really think she went undiagnosed all these years and lived past thirty?"

"It happens," Kutner said, though obviously he wasn't happy with the diagnosis. "It is a rare genetic disorder. She's at the age where the symptoms should get worst."

House thought for a moment before nodding slowly, "Test her eyes, ears, kidney and urine to confirm and after that…" he looked at them. "You can tell the tiny dancer she _won't _be dancing for Cuddy's girlfriend after all."

Giving one last look at his team of fellows, House waved them away before settling back in his seat, frayed at the nerves now.

Now his thoughts weren't occupied by Cuddy, now it was on his patient. There was no known cure for the disease Kutner had just pitched and should he be right or if no further symptoms present then it was likely his patient had less than a year or two left. She'd passed the life expectancy of thirty which by itself was a miracle of sorts already.

House was usually done when his diagnosis was finished, but knowing there was nothing to be done was something that bothered him as well. He always tried not to show it, but losing patients was bothersome for him. After all, the time and effort he puts in only to have them die in a year or less was frustrating enough.

Medicine had come a long way, but not quite far enough where House was concerned.

Letting out a breath, he made a grab for his cane. He'd just eaten and Wilson was out, he _needed _to find something to do now before he drove himself pissed to drinking.

Drinking alone not at home wasn't on his activity list anymore, the last time he'd done that…it didn't turn out too well. A bus landed on him and twenty or so other passengers.

And…

_He might as well get used to thinking it if he was going to live with it for the rest of his life:_ Wilson lost a girlfriend.

It was a consolation now, finding out what was wrong with her if the final diagnosis was right. Usually, getting it right was the prize, but for cases like this, being wrong was something better.

She was thirty-four, a dancer, a health-nut and in perfect shape other than what started her stay in the hospital. Assuming they were right which he was sure they were, there had to be something else.

Glaring at the space around him, House decided to get out.

The silence was enough to drive him insane, sitting there useless was hammering the proverbial nail to the coffin.

He always hated silence.

-o0o-

After being asked if there was anything she wanted by Lisa's—irritatingly—perfect assistant, Tim decided she needed to get out of there. She slipped into the Clinic after a small wave at the desk outside Lisa's main office and slinked right at the nurse's desk where she asked the same nurse with the dark hair if there was any place near where she could buy a cigarette, preferably the good ones.

The nurse grinned and shook her head, telling her that first, she wouldn't know what classified as 'good' among cigarettes and second, that she didn't know and told her Dr. Cuddy left a message-slash-instruction to show Tim a picture.

She pulled out a small photo and showed it to Tim.

Tim gagged, covering her mouth with her hand, the other clutching her stomach as the nurse waved a picture of peeling skin and an X-ray of damaged lungs. The X-ray wasn't so bad, but the peeling skin was what had Tim rushing out of the Clinic, purse in hand.

And that was what led her slipping into the more quiet Ivy Hall, fighting off shivers as her mind's duplicate of the picture appeared again in front of her. She gagged again and pulled out her phone, "You bitch," she hissed, feeling a shiver crawl up her spine. "That was the cruelest thing you have ever done to me. I hate you. I hope your eyes fall out at the end of your stupid meeting!"

She snapped her phone shut, knowing Lisa would most likely get the message later after the meeting. She shook her head, fighting the shivers.

That was disgusting.

And Lisa was a bitch for doing that.

Shaking her head and hissing at Lisa, she realized she was standing in the middle of a lecture hall. She looked around, noticing the closed doors, the name-plates and schedule boards empty. Only then did she realize where exactly she was.

Click-clacking her way down the hall, she headed for the rooms, checking doors and opening them, glancing into the rooms until she found the one with the piano. Pushing the door closed behind her, she went to the front of the room where the piano stood closed and untouched. She laid her purse down on the polished wooden finish of the piano and took a seat on the lone bench, sighing silently to herself.

Music from the past in different notes, different memories came and she closed her eyes, laying her hand against the cool polished wood of the cover.

There were too many memories too choose from, too many songs to remember, too many emotions to see through and she didn't want to torture herself remembering the wrong memories.

Well, not so much wrong, as heart-ripping.

So she lifted the cover, pushed away the red cloth that protected the keys and allowed her fingers to trace the ivory keys, a soft wistful smile playing on her lips.

"_Tim, come on," Elise said, pulling her into the music room that was usually occupied by her mother. "Come, come. You _promised_."_

"_Fine," Tim huffed. "But later, we're going to make Aunt Lisa play."_

"_And we can play too," Elise said, nodding. "But we're playing _now_."_

_Tim looked around, seeing the violins perched on their cases, eyeing them carefully. She knew who those belonged to—most of them to Grandfather Holloway's and Elisabeth's. Those were the ones she always stared at, reverently, wishing she could play them herself._

_She knew Elise's mother used them and even offered to let the girls play too, but Tim was still afraid she might break them and Elise wanted to be sure she was perfect before touching them._

_For now, they would tinker with the piano, Elise's mother's black shiny grand piano her husband gave to her a few Christmases ago. Tim had been taking some lessons with Elise's teacher who came everyday on weekdays—a mad old hag Elisabeth wanted to be the one to teach her only daughter from age four, saying she was the best. _

_Tim didn't like her, but couldn't deny she was good. Elise was used to her._

_Elisabeth could teach Elise herself, but she was adamant Elise learned from the best, only the best. She had dreams for her daughter, dreams that were far different than her husband's. Of course, they didn't mind, not Elisabeth and Damien, they agreed long ago that Elise could do as she pleased when she was ready. It didn't hurt to take advantage of opportunities, that's all._

_Elise loved the piano, loved it from when she was a small girl. It made her mother happy they were so much alike in so many ways, passion for music included._

_Tim had been playing the violin since she was five, a lesson her mother pushed for even though she could barely make it to the recitals and shows since half the time she was in Paris and California, other times she as busy trekking all over the world wherever her heart pleased. Her father thought it was something to add to his daughter's future list of talents, should she decide to take on a career in entertaining like her mother._

_Every weekend and some weekdays, Elise would teach Tim what she knew of the piano and in return, Tim would lend her the oldest violin she had—her first—and taught her to play as well._

_Tim brought Elise to her teacher, a graying straight-nosed Briton who liked having them both for tea during the afternoon on weekends and lessons after._

_Gradually, they progressed until Elise was playing the violin on her own without the ear-splitting screeching and Tim was catching up fast with her on the ebony and ivory keys._

_Elise sat on the bench, pushing the cover open with Tim right next to her. She smiled, missing a tooth near the side of her upper row of teeth, "Chopin, waltz?"_

_Tim nodded, "Fine."_

_Elise smiled, "Ready?"_

_They positioned their hands over the keys. Tim smiled, "Yes."_

_And in less than two counts, the pair played, dressed in their uniforms still, young nimble fingers chasing through the notes of Chopin's waltz with lesser flaws than the last time. They would play, for the better part of an hour, until Elisabeth would come, smiling as she drifts into the room to see her two favorite girls, playing music for her heart._

_She would applaud them, kiss and hug them and later play with them and the halls would be filled with music until Elliot comes home and shortly before dinner, Damien as well._

Familiar fingers drifting over the keys, Tim let her forefinger press on a low note, reveling in the deep vibrating echo that filled the room. It's been a while.

Closing her eyes, remembering years gone by and revisiting old memories, she began to play. Like all those years ago, she would lose herself in the music, just as she and Elise had.

_Just as Elisabeth had, with that smile on her face that was so much like Lisa's._

Note per note, piece per piece—dexterous fingers played as if not a day had gone by, as if Artemis Theodoratus hadn't stopped playing. Her fingers remember, as did her heart as it always will. Her haven was music, a haven she hadn't visited for quite some time now.

But of course, compared to Lisa's time away from their passions, hers was shorter.

Tim couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Lisa play.

And that was a sad thought.

Lisa used to love to play music, used to love a lot of things actually, but that wasn't the case now. Maybe she was more Lisa now than Elise and Tim had to admit—though only to herself—she missed parts of Elise.

She wouldn't trade Lisa for Elise though, but Tim wouldn't mind if Lisa actually remembered who she was and what she was once in a while.

Playing music had been different then, had changed, when _Elise _stopped playing.

Feeling her heart constrict and a sudden onset of memories coming back to her, Tim stopped playing abruptly, her eyes snapping open. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest.

Standing abruptly, pushing the bench so hard it scraped against the wooden floors, Tim slammed the cover shut, encasing the flawless ebony and ivory keys, shutting them with such force it was as if she was shutting her memories inside the instrument.

Grabbing her purse that she'd left draped over the piano, she turned only to see a figure hovering not two feet away from her and the bench. "Jesus Christ!"

"Oh, no, usually, I go by the name of God," Greg House smirked, leaning on his cane.

Tim stood, hands on her chest, breathing heavily. "Fuck, what the hell is the matter with you? You almost scared me to death! Aren't you supposed to be some goddamned doctor?"

"Only on weekdays," he shrugged. "Weekends I usually get bombed or I call some special friends for my special needs."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, smirking now that she had her bearings. "Which nine-hundred numbers do you call for your special needs, doctor? One-nine-hundred-W-H-O-R-E?"

He smirked, "Oh, you and your numbers."

She shrugged, "I know, I'm fabulous."

He shook his head slightly and motioned to the piano with one free hand, "Not bad for Julliard."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You've got your guy's-guy's-guy hounding me?"

He shrugged, "You're hot, might as well."

"I'm flattered," she lied. "What else did your guy's-guy's-guy find out about me?"

"Why should I tell you things you already know?" he asked. "Unless you're using my curiosity to deflect off the attention from you so I won't ask why you jumped like the piano burned you."

Tim wondered just how good the crippled bastard was.

"Hm, I saw a…" she smiled wickedly. "Bug." She wrinkled her nose, "I _hate _bugs."

"Ah," he nodded. "Scared of those big bad nasty cockroaches?"

She pretended to shiver, "Ugh, disgusting."

He nodded, "Well, we should take care of that, right?"

He lumbered forward and for a cripple and a somewhat large man, he moved quite gracefully. She noted nothing near clumsiness for someone who was missing a chunk of his thigh. She was impressed, for a moment.

She moved away from the piano, taking three steps away and he walked past her. She watched, interested as he raised his cane high up, as if preparing to smash it. He turned to her, "This where you saw it?"

"Mhm," Tim mumbled.

He brought his cane down swiftly only to have it land quietly on top of the piano, laying it where her purse had previously lay. She watched, transfixed, as he slipped into the bench she had previously occupied.

"I actually like bugs, sometimes," he said without turning to her.

Tim rolled her eyes, "Really?"

He shrugged, "It's a free world. Bugs can infest it as God will let them."

"You don't believe in God," she pointed out.

"Now _I'm _flattered," he said and she could _feel _him smirk. "Does Cuddy talk about me that much?"

"Enough," Tim shrugged, swaying from side to side slightly. "But it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know you are an atheist."

"Oh?" she watched his fingers lift the cover she had just slammed shut. His fingers were long, slim and perfect for piano. She wondered how they would feel—rough or smooth? They looked smooth to her, but looks could be deceiving. "How so?"

Fingers landed softly against a key, a soft melodious key that seemed to echo playfully around the empty room. She perched herself on the table a few feet away, crossing one leg over the other, and leaning back on her hands. "You're too arrogant to believe there's someone more powerful, more superior than you. You're too arrogant to accept someone can actually control your actions, your words and your _life_."

"Ah, we've got ourselves another Wilson," House said and from where she sat, she could see the side of his face. She observed as his fingers began to move, as if of their own accord and he was nothing more like her, an observer, an audience as they work.

The tune was something she couldn't recognize, but it was beautiful. The tones low, but often drifting to lighter notes, like emotions with no clear dictation or direction. The tempo was slow, but would drift to a faster pace only to slow again.

Beside her, Tim felt her fingers twitch, as if wanting to touch the keys and try the piece for herself. In her mind, she could see the notes, recognizing them and immediately committing them to memory. It was a beautiful piece.

"Did you write that?" she asked, eyes closed, head leaned back, basking in the music's embrace.

Lisa had not been wrong. The man, however much of an asshole, knew how to play.

"I was in junior high school," he said. "I couldn't finish it until some dimwitted, half-way brain dead piano prodigy became my patient. He finished the piece after hearing it the first time."

Tim opened her eyes, watching him as he continued to play. _This _was the piece Lisa was talking about, the unfinished piece.

She smiled, it was beautiful.

Not that she would tell him, of course so she smirked, "Outsmarted by a brain dead patient? That must have hurt…"

"Pissed me off," he admitted. "It's perfect."

"What happened?" she asked. "To the patient?"

"I cured him," he said though she detected no sign of smugness. "Chopped off the dead half of his brain, threw it away and took away his gift of music. The good thing is, he can button his own shirt now and wipe his own ass, maybe."

She chuckled, "You just don't like competition, medicine had nothing to do with it, I bet."

He smirked, turning to look at her, "Duh."

"You are evil," she said, grinning.

"Sexy as sin too," he countered.

"Oh, Dr. House, would you like to get acquainted with my lunch?" Tim asked sweetly. "If you're real nice about it, maybe my breakfast too…"

"How nice of you," he said sarcastically. "But I wouldn't want to put you out—though I wouldn't mind if you _put out_ right here."

"I don't think so, lover," Tim purred, leaning forward so her elbow could rest on her knee, her hand cradling her chin. "The other ladies might get jealous."

"Oh, come now," House taunted. "I'm sure Cuddles won't mind sharing."

"I wasn't talking about Cuddles," Tim said with a laugh. "Although she could count too…she doesn't like me putting things in my mouth without knowing where it's been."

House groaned audibly, his fingers flattening against the keys, the reverberating sound resonating in a deep chorus of growls around them. "Naughty, naughty…"

Tim laughed, "Don't stop, Dr. House. It's very nice."

"You're the damned Julliard hussy, get your ass down here and play," House muttered.

Tim shook her head. "I don't think you can afford me."

"I'm sure you'll make exceptions," he said charmingly. "Since I'm your best friend's sex-slave-slash-boy-toy and all…"

"I don't think so," Tim said. "Lisa's got better taste than that."

He placed his hand on his chest, over his heart, leaning his head back like a drama queen and rolling his eyes up and to the side in her direction, "You wound me..."

"And I delight in it," she proclaimed. "Now, get playing, bitch."

He glowered at her, "I'm nobody's bitch."

"From what I've heard, you're Lisa's bitch most days," she taunted. Of course, Lisa hadn't said such thing, but what did he know?

"Well _Lisa _is confusing reality with fantasy again, poor girl," House shook his head, sliding to the edge of the bench til he was sitting sideways. "She's a little confused."

"Maybe," Tim hummed. "But who really knows? Maybe she's just an idiot."

House cocked his head to the side, watching her carefully. "You think your best friend is an idiot."

"She can be," Tim shrugged. "Sometimes."

Tim silently sent Lisa a hug and her sorry for calling her an idiot. She wasn't.

House smirked, "Why are you here?"

"I'm bored," she shrugged, "And the bitch nurse at the Clinic wouldn't tell me where I can get some smokes around here."

He raised an eyebrow, "Smoker. Nice."

"I know, sexy, isn't it?" she taunted, swinging her leg slightly but not enough to jostle her chin. "I've bedded guys just with my French inhale."

"Very sexy," House remarked. "No wonder Cuddy keeps you away—you're competition."

She laughed throatily. "Competition? For what? It's New Jersey for fuck's sake."

"There's my friend Wilson," House said thoughtfully. "And then me and probably Chase, if you're into effeminate-Australian blue bloods with the hair to match."

"Dr. Wilson is too…" she thought of a word. "Committed for my taste—I'm a hit and run kind of girl and while Dr. Chase is sexy as hell with all that product in his hair, I don't think Dr. Cameron would be quite pleased with me stealing her little boy toy."

"Ah, not such a rebel, eh?"

"Not like that," Tim said, waving her free hand dismissively. "Only the desperate steal off boyfriends and girlfriends. There are over three billion people in the world, there's gotta be a better version out there. Why shatter your fucking image for a dope?"

"Word of the wise," he mumbled. "You're smart too."

"Nope," she shook her head. "I'm just your average psycho."

"Just like my boss," he grinned. "Cool. So she talks about Jimmy too?"

"She talks about a lot of things," Tim said honestly. "But mostly, about some asshole whose name I can never remember…some idiot who can't shut his trap and always manages to get sued. Eh," she shrugged. "Who cares? If I can't remember, he ain't important."

House smirked. "You're a bitch."

"Thank you."

"Wasn't a compliment," he retorted tartly.

"I'm taking it as one," she replied.

"You didn't get my previous question," he remarked. "Why are you here? And I meant it as, why are you here _now_?"

"Lisa needed a drinking buddy," she shrugged. "And Roman couldn't make it so I came."

"Roman?"

"Dial-a-whore," Tim said, grinning. "He's hot, clean, pricey but worth every penny. Satisfaction guaranteed plus he's a little bit in love with Lisa."

She suppressed a laugh when she saw his eyes darken a little. "Cuddy doesn't do whores."

"You sure about that?" Tim asked tauntingly. "Because I could have sworn I saw her eyeing that man-candy in her office this morning and she didn't even know him. He could have been a whore for all you know…"

"Cuddy's too fucking anal and too obsessive to go for whores and one night stands," she applauded him for sounding so sure though it was obvious he was a bit ruffled. "You've got the wrong pair of funbags, lesbo."

Tim smiled, serenely, knowing it was enough to jab some doubt in the corners of his analytical mind. Let him suffer, she thought, because he knew Lisa Cuddy doing something so out of character and out of his radar was enough to drive him up a wall. Should be fun to watch, she mused, watching a cripple clamoring for the walls.

She hid her smile.

"How long have you known Cuddy?" he asked, changing the subject and she relished in her victory. She succeeded enough to make him change the subject. She savored her victory in silence. "In exact years because I still find it quite hard to believe her ya-boos weren't already there the moment she first greeted the world in her birthday suit."

"I was eight," Tim said truthfully. "Lisa was around five. Her mother met my parents, they became friends and then dumped me with them. I met her…sister first. We're around the same age."

"Your parents dumped you on Cuddy's parents?" he watched her, curious.

"Yeah," Tim shrugged. "My mother was a flake, dad was busy. They figured a couple of new friends would make better baby sitters."

He watched her and she smiled at him, that same serene smile on her lips.

"It's a living," Tim shrugged. "What about you? Lisa mentioned you were a military brat."

"It's a living," House muttered. "At least, it was. Does Cuddy really do whores?"

Tim grinned, "What do you think? You know her so well…"

"She wouldn't," House said, sounding sure this time. "She's the commitment type—like Wilson without the divorces. She's not into the whole first-date thing unless she's desperate."

"And what do you think she is now?" Tim asked, wagging her eyebrows suggestively. "After the last few dates you managed to fuck up."

"Cuddy's vibrator would have been enough," House muttered, closing his eyes. "That's hot…"

Tim snorted. "God, you are a pervert."

"No," House said. "I just know what I like."

"And that includes Lisa pleasuring herself?" Tim asked. "Very creative, so imaginative…lady going to lady town—men are _so_ original."

"Whatever gets you off," he said proudly.

"Though you should be happy," Tim said, musing now. "You like her like that, don't you?"

"Self pleasure? Who doesn't?"

She snorted again, "No, perv. I mean…untouched, unfucked—you like Lisa like that."

House gave her a look and didn't say anything.

"You like her…away from other men," she said, tapping her fingers against her chin. "You're possessive, territorial and even a little obsessive about her. You like her…pure, virginal even. At least as virginal as you can get with a non-virgin."

"I'd like her unclothed," he said, deflecting but she wasn't about to let go. "Think you can help me with that?"

Lisa always said she was like a damned Pitbull—once with her jaw locked in one leg, she wasn't about to let go without tearing off something big. Tim wasn't letting this go easy.

"You like keeping guys away from her like a human chastity belt," she said, yes locked on him now. "But the problem is, the more you hang on to her, the more you chase off other guys…did you ever stop to think what she would do once she gets sick of it?" She smirked. "Did you ever wonder what would happen once she gets sick of her faithful vibrator?"

"She'd either turn to Wilson or to someone in the hospital," he shrugged. "Or, now that you're here, maybe you."

She chuckled, "But we both know none of that or them is gonna happen, right? You'd chase them off too. I bet you'd run over your best friend just for that."

"Fuck and go is never a fun game for women," House shrugged. "Especially Cuddles and once it happens, a fucked-up Administrator makes a bitchy, moody and weepy Administrator which means ten-times more of hell. I'm looking out for my sanity."

"Or what's left of it," Tim said, tapping her temple with a grin. "You know…" she hopped off the table and circled House, slipping on the bench behind him, straddling it the way he almost was with his back to her. She wondered if the leg was in the way. She leaned close to his left ear, "I saw the way she was eyeing that guy you were telling me about…I know that look."

"Oh, yeah?" she saw him swallow.

She licked her front teeth, "Yeah…she _wants _him."

"Does she?"

"Yeah, I've seen that look before," she whispered. "With Roman, with Alex…and Sam."

"Who the fuck are they?"

"Some guys," Tim shrugged, hiding her grin as House shifted in his seat but didn't face her. "Alex was some guy from yoga—ever wonder how she stays so fit? You already know Roman and then there's Sammy…he was a restaurant owner. Met Lisa when she was, I don't know, I think twenty-six? He was hot and cute...and Italian."

Completely none existent, but they were enough to widen House's eyes. She could see the wheels in his head turning, the shade of his cheek turning a distinct slight shade of green.

God, she was good. Hook, line and fucking sinker, House was interested. This wasn't supposed to be easy, but maybe, just maybe she'd found his weakest point. Brilliant my ass, she snickered internally. This was fun. Lisa should see her brilliant asshole sink like a rock on quicksand.

"You're implying your friend is a whore," House muttered, his eyes on her over his shoulder.

She was wound almost around him like a snake. _Hiss_…

"No, I'm not," she said, batting her lashes at him. "I'm just saying she likes sex. As do I and…damn, you gotta admit, Greg, three years of no sex has got to be…frustrating. Remember that lube guy you chased off? She wanted to but…well, you bitched in. Man, she was pissed."

"Cuddy's gotten off…"

"How would you know?" she asked, grinning. "Unless you've been tapping that…"

"God no, I'm too precious to die, but lady town is always open," House said gruffly. "For pretty little Administrators who needs a little lovin'."

Tim chuckled, "Sometimes _au natural _is the way to go…and knowing Lisa? Shit, even I'd be crawling for some by now."

She almost laughed at the way his eyes darkened, taking an even icier shade of blue. She silently thanked the heavens for jealousy. Or maybe Pandora—or whoever provided that emotion.

"But you know what?" Tim said, leaning back as House turned to her in the seat and now he was sitting next to her even as she straddled the bench. "I'd tap that, if I could. You gotta admit, she's hot. I'd kill for her ass."

"Where do you get Roman?" he asked.

"Hm…I told you, dial-a-whore," she sighed dramatically. "But he's…out of commission as of the moment. He's a bit in love with Lisa, but he's with some old hag in the Hamptons—can you blame him? She's throwing butt loads of cash for his ass."

"So who's next? Peter the bartender?" House wondered aloud.

"Hm…Wilson?" she asked, grinning as she saw his jaw clench. "This is fun, listing guys to screw our baby girl. We should definitely talk more."

"Anyone ever tell you you're insane?" he asked hoarsely.

"All the time," she snorted. "How faithful is Dr. Chase?"

"Faithful enough to pass as her son," House growled.

"Easy tiger," Tim laughed. "I'm just listing. So…Wilson it is? I can arrange a date night!"

"No fucking way," House said and Tim knew he hadn't meant to. She smiled, "What? Why not? It sounds perfect!" She leaned close, her lips close to his neck. "We set up a nice little dinner, we watch, we wait, we listen and then…" her hand crept up his undamaged thigh. "_We_ have our own dinner…what do you say, Dr. House? Your best friend, my best friend…"

He pulled slightly away. "Not happening. The fourth Mrs. Wilson is _not _and will never be Lisa Cuddy. Are you out of your mind?"

Tim felt glee bubble up within as she could see being the sane one in the conversation was bothering him. Clearly, House wasn't used to being the normal one in conversations which suited Tim quite excellently. The ass needed a dose of his own toxic medicine anyway.

And she was just getting started.

Her hands stopped on his thigh, dangerously close but he didn't move her hand away, "Maybe. But it's better than Wilson than that lying little leech from today, right?"

He shoved her hand away, "Not any. She's better off alone and barren."

She grinned, "Then what do you want? You?"

He looked away.

Tim smiled, sinisterly. "Oh…yes."

The sound of the door opening interrupted them.

"What are you two doing?"

-o0o0o0o0o-

Well, this was a bitch to write.

I was supposed to update the day before but chickened out then a two hours before I was REALLY about to update already, my brain came up with another idea between House and Tim so I had some revising to do…and came up with this.

House and Tim planning Cuddy's sex life…how screwed up is that?

I _hate _**this **chapter—so freaking frustrating. I think I disappointed myself and, in effect, disappointed you guys. Crap. This is messed up. I don't know why, I had it all mapped out then when I sat down to write it…blank. That's crap.

The scene before this was different then my mind did a 360 and this sick scene came.

House has been manipulated by the evil Tim…man, very out of character but hey, even Superman had his weakness, right? But it's not over yet. More to come between House and Tim—if you're still interested…they've got a lot of talking to do.

Like the idea of Cuddy being his kryptonite?

This is crap, but tell me anyway.

And yes, again, the patient made a mini-pseudo appearance. Yay!

*sigh* I'm writing Chapter 20 now, and as I promised a faster pace—Cuddy and Tim'll probably be at the gentlemen's club by then. Think how that'll turn out. And who's gonna catch the straight-laced Administrator on the wrong side of town? Guesses people, guesses!

Oh, and don't forget the Poll on my profile.

Oh, gawd. Who saw **Saviors**?

Jealous-territorial Cuddy was adorable. The Chameron scenes were cute—they always get the cutesy storylines i.e. "It's Tuesday" then the proposal to propose thing—(see? They do belong together! Kudos to JMo and Jesse for their professionalism) and Wilson is **the man**! I love Jimmy so much right now—he's so great, taking what he learned from Amber and applying it into helping House…God, who can't love this man?

And dear god, I am reeling, I am _dying_ from waiting for A House Divided—damn it, why two weeks? These stupid skips are getting OLD. Crap, crap, crap, **crap!**

**Replies:**

_Emzy _replies a la PM! I love you for recognizing the Corpse Bride! I'm glad you guys liked the spoilers- - - at least I know some of you will be coming back! I'm evil aren't I?

_PartyPants12_ and the lovin' goes to you! Congratulations for actually answering Vancouer—from Canada, with love! Thank you for the reviews *smile* and just so you know, I love your username.

_Kyrie _LMAO Chase? You imagine Chase as Nathan? Ooh nelly…that's interesting. Hee…

_Really_luv_it _ohmygod on you saying about Nelise "getting it on like donkey kong" ROTFL…mind if I use that? That's freaking hilarious! I'm sorry I just updated—I had no idea it would be so hard to write the Tim/House scene. I set myself up, I'm an idiot. Vote on my poll and veer it away from Nelise—every vote counts!

_Jaded27 _Jealous House is great entertainment, but if you watched Saviors—Jealous _and _territorial Cuddy was adorable! Teehee…

_Weezy _Congratulations! You're the one of the first (and few) to actually ask for Nelise—you'll see. Don't worry, I see your side. We'll see—I'm still arguing with my brain. Try to get on to my poll and vote for Nelise. Thank you for reading!

_Kakashifangrl1012 _New York's coming soon, hun and hell yeah, "dun, dun, dun" is exactly perfect for that. As always, thank you for your reviews. You always make them sound so great! And I am SO SORRY for being a total asshole. I shouldn't have spoiled the episode for you. Don't hate me! I'm just an idiot. I'm really sorry! But I might as well tell you—I cried during the ep too! It's heartbreaking. I LOVED Kutner. - - - and thank you for reviewing my other new fic! I promise, I'll try out that Kutner idea you have. I'm a bit scared of doing it…I feel I won't be able to do it justice. That scene, that idea needs a REALLY great writer to actually capture the moment…and I don't think I'm the girl for the job—but for you, I will try, okay? I promise! I'll let you know *hugs*

_ChanelBesos _LOL you really don't like Nathan? Cricket bat…how very sport of you. I'm glad you liked the memory—it scared the crap out of me that you guys would hate it!

_Invisable Rose _no problem, don't be sorry for not reviewing. At least you're still reading *grin* LOL I love that corset line too—"I'll tie you up" very much Huddy. A lot of us Huddy-pervys are so looking out for the hook up…it's a bit heartbreaking that we only have 3 episodes though…and the waiting for the next ep is a bitch! - - - and thank you so much for reviewing _It Ends Tonight_

_Shikabane-Mai _LOL I liked that scene with Kayla…I don't know, I just always imagine the young House as this playboy. Don't know why, but I liked that scene. There are girls like that, it's amusing. My twisted mind is tearing me apart…slowly. Ugh, you'll see soon. Teehee…you're shipping Cuddy/Tim? Oh my…some girl on girl should excite perv-a-la-House. I'm so glad you like Nathan…very few do. I hope you liked this chapter, it kicked my ass…I'm still pissed.

_Houselover1 _first off, I love your pic. So dig the vampire teeth. Hiss! I'm glad I helped you a bit while you were sick. Again, my timing worked for someone. I'm very glad! I hope this chap didn't suck too much…blah. - - - and thank you for reviewing my other fic! Glad you liked it even if it was a bit…morbid.

_CHIGRLTP _Thank you for reviewing, welcome to the fic!

_Kurotenshi-08 _thank you! I'm sorry it took me a while to update. I set myself up to fail, the idiot me—blame her!

_Joraco14 _Moi? Mini-Ausiello? Gawd, seriously? LOL that's funny! Teehee...I think I'd rock the hair do though teehee...

Well…this was long. To those who reviewed, read and alerted, thank you as well! I hope you'll keep reading because I intend to finish this and hopefully maybe start a second one. We'll see!

I'll try to update soon, I swear. I'm pretty revved up for Cuddy and Tim's gentlemen's club. I think it could be fun…and Cuddy getting caught should be funny. By who? Try to guess.

And to those who read and reviewed and favorite-d and loved _It Ends Tonight_—thank you! It was a bit morbid so I'm glad you liked it anyway.

_Untouched _by _The Veronicas_


	21. Chapter 20: I Kissed a Girl

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING. Supposedly, this is the first week of December.

Warning: I have never been inside a strip club…nor do I wish to. Oh, and they're going to be a little OoC here.

Chapter Twenty: I Kissed a Girl

House and Tim looked up to see Wilson standing by the door, hands on his hips with Cuddy standing next to him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Tim's hands immediately slipped away from his leg and she stood up, recovering faster than he could it seemed. She skipped over the bench, holding on to her purse.

"Finished kicking the rat-bastard already?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Uh," Wilson stammered, glancing at Cuddy. "Yes, we…who are you?"

House's eyes met Cuddy's as she stood there, mouth closed now. "She's the bride I ordered for you. What do you think? Does she look Mrs.-Wilson-the-Fourth material?"

Wilson's brows furrowed, "What…" then his eyes widened. "Oh." He turned to Cuddy who visibly took a deep breath. "Cuddy?"

"Oh my god," Cuddy sputtered out, finally managing to find her voice. "Were you just _groping _each other? _Here?_ Right here, I _my _hospital? Are you two insane?"

"No, I was groping him," Tim said, click-clacking her way up the steps that lead to the doors, bouncing on each step until she met Cuddy and Wilson at the door. "And you said its empty here anyway plus, I _know _I am insane, I don't know about him, but I have an idea…"

"Oh my god," Cuddy repeated, eyes wide, torn between acting appalled and furious.

"No, technically," House interrupted as he took out a pill from his breast pocket. "_She _was molesting me, mommy. Aren't you going to punish her? I feel so _used_. She touched my special place." He grinned before tossing a pill in his mouth like an M&M.

"Oh, and you're saying you didn't like it?" Cuddy spat. "I cannot believe you! No, wait, I _can_." Then she turned to Tim, "And _you_, what in the hell is the matter with you? I told you to work or call your theater, _not _screw around with _my _employee."

"Wow, possessive much?" House teased, puffing up his chest as he stood up, ignoring the stiffness he felt. With as much grace as he could muster, he headed for the group, less bouncing like the way Tim did, but he reached them nonetheless.

"Take it easy, Lee," Tim was saying soothingly before he could reach them at the door. "Greg and I were just talking…"

Cuddy shook her head, almost taking a step back. "Then what were you doing with your hand _down his crotch_?"

Wilson flinched at that while House grinned proudly, watching the two women as they stood in front of each other. He wondered if they've fought over a man before, maybe that hobo-Roman or that kitchen-rat Sam or…the other one whose name he couldn't and definitely didn't care to remember. A part of him hoped for a catfight.

After all, he was a man with a penis and an ego, what was better than two hot chicks fighting over him? Damn, he was good.

"Hm, testing the goods?" Tim said and had the grace to blush, but it only made Cuddy frown more and somewhat dangerously. The woman sighed, "Come on, Lee. I'm kidding."

Cuddy pinched the bridge of her nose, "When I called you, I needed a friend not for someone to entertain my wild-ass doctor who already has a bordello of hookers on payroll!"

"Hey, they're not that many," House grumbled, pretending to look offended. "I'm at least three away from counting as a bordello."

"Shut up," Cuddy spat. "Get back to work. Your patient needs her attending and I already told you, House, I don't want to see you today! Get out."

"What?" House whined. "I'm all geared up here, get me the hair-pulling, the rib-kicking, the clothes-tearing, the spitting, the hissing! Catfight, fight, fight, fight!"

"House," Wilson said warningly, shaking his head slightly.

Leave it to Wilson to stand quietly at the sidelines, ever intent on playing the good guy, but House knew him well enough to know he would have paid big money to watch a catfight. He was every bit as much a pervert as House only he was a good boy because he was hiding it.

"Oh," Tim said, somewhat girlishly and she held her hand out cheerfully as if Cuddy wasn't standing a foot away, stewing in rage. "So you're _the _James Wilson Lee-la has been talking about all these years?" She held out her hand, "Pleasure."

Wilson's eyes met House and he gave him a smirk, telling him _'I told you so'_. It wasn't hard to miss Tim's boldness and obvious bitch-tendencies. "I'd say the pleasure is all mine," he said, taking her hand in a gentleman's touch. "But it seems House should say so rightly first."

"Oh, you," Tim said teasingly. "Lisa tells me you're quite a catch."

Wilson's cheek pinked, "Huh, well…thank you…?"

"Oh, god," Cuddy moaned, hand covering half her face now and House could see her body tensing by the minute but then again, he felt his own body tense as well.

Cuddy thinks Wilson was a catch. Then what the hell was he? Dried fish?

"My best friend seems to have forgotten her manners _again_," Tim said alluringly as her hand remained in Wilson's. "I'm Artemis Theodoratus, but I don't give a rat's ass for my name so it's Tim on the tin, darling."

"Yes, of course," Wilson said, slipping easily onto his smooth doctor god moves. "I'm Dr. James Wilson, Dr. Cuddy's Head of Oncology. It's nice to meet you. Greg has informed me about your theater. I have tickets to the coming weeks' show."

"Oh?" Tim said as their hands separated. "Well, better toss it in the bin then, sweetie, my theater doors are open for Lisa's _special _friends anytime."

Wilson grinned, "Wow, that's great. Thank you, that's so kind of you, Miss—"

"Tim, darling," she said, winking. "Miss only works for my bitchy-dried up ghoul teachers when Lisa and I were in school together."

"You and Lisa went to school together?" Wilson asked, interested now.

"Yes," Tim smiled at Cuddy who was still covering half her face, eyes closed. "Imagine your boss in a white blouse, patent leather Mary-Janes and a plaid skirt."

"Tim," Cuddy said, dropping her hand.

The corner's of Wilson's mouth twitched while House tried not to laugh as an unbidden image of Lisa Cuddy wrapped around a pole with the aforementioned outfit including glowing white ruffled panties danced in his mind merrily. It was one of his fantasies not too long ago, one that he's used more often than Wilson would believe for some manly rituals.

"Yes, dear?" Tim asked, smiling.

"What were you two doing here?" Cuddy asked, patiently this time.

"It's not what it looked like," House said, serious now. "We weren't playing the piano. We were really having wild monkey sex."

Tim turned to face him, dark black hair whipping around with her rapid movement. She slapped him on the shoulder, "You said you wouldn't tell!"

"Someone had to," House said, grinning stupidly. "Besides, boinking the Dean of Medicine's best friend should help knock back a few Clinic Hours, right?"

Tim batted her lashes, "Oh, Greg, are you saying you're just trying to use me?"

"I would not," House said, feigning disgust. "If I wanted to use someone, I'd use the Dean of medicine herself. That fabulous ass of hers hasn't been touched in quite some time."

He knew he was reminding her of their conversation which was enough to get that sinister smile back on her pretty red lips. "Which reminds me…"

She turned to Wilson and Cuddy. "Dr. Wilson, I was wondering…are you busy tonight?"

House stopped, she wouldn't…

_She would._

"Uh," Wilson started. "I…"

"Yes," House said loudly. "Dr. Wilson and I were planning to tap some ass tonight so, sorry. Yes, he's busy tonight."

"Oh," Tim said, turning to House, looking crestfallen.

House savored the look of defeat on her face.

"I'm sorry," Tim said to Wilson, hand on his arm. "I honestly did not suspect that you—Oh, dear—that you and Greg were," she shrugged. "Were a _couple_."

"What?" House and Wilson exclaimed at the same time.

"You-you have it wrong, Miss," Wilson stammered, turning beet red. "Greg and I aren't—er, _aren't_ a-a couple. We're straight, _very _straight."

"Tim," Cuddy said gently.

"Oh," Tim said. "I thought since Greg said…"

"Greg said nothing," House said loudly. "In fact, _Tim _was just saying a lot of things…"

"Yes," Tim said, smiling again now that they were all together. "Dr. Wilson, if your prior engagements _are _breakable, would you like to join Dr. Cuddy at Trattoria Uma? I think that cute little Italian bistro fifteen minutes from Lisa's place would be lovely. Especially on winter, they serve _the_ most divine hot cocoa even my Manhattan couldn't beat."

_Son of a…_

House gripped his cane as Wilson's eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. Cuddy stood, mouth open again, staring at her best friend. "Tim, what are you…"

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Uh…well…"

"She's kidding," Cuddy insisted to Wilson, grabbing his arm. "Tim is just a little…bored."

"I wasn't, Greg and I were just discussing some prospects for you to—" she glanced at House then at Wilson before smiling at Cuddy. "Have dinner with…"

House glared at Wilson who looked at him, confused.

"And of course, with _or _**for **desert, whichever you'd prefer, _fuck_."

"Artemis!" Cuddy had turned ten shades of red by then.

Tim sent an angelic smile at Cuddy before turning to Wilson, "What do you say, Dr. Wilson?"

"Oh, that's really…er," he started rubbing his hands together in front of his stomach. "But, ah…" his eyes drifted to House who was sure to look at him murderously. "That's really-uh, really—uh, lovely…?"

House shifted his cane beside him as Wilson looked at him, as if asking.

"No, not lovely, I mean…ah," he turned to Cuddy, alarmed now and obviously worried he might have offended her. "I mean, no, not-_not_ lovely, I mean, I'm sure it'd be, uh, lovely, but—" his eyes followed House's cane that moved another inch, across from him and closer now. "­_No_, I mean, it won't be lovely—" his eyes fell on Cuddy again. "I mean…"

House would have taken sympathy—or perhaps glee—over the fact that the Oncologist was now quite obviously in distress about his answer to the rather unconventional invitation, but no. This was not a particularly funny moment for House.

He wasn't jealous, of course not, but this was Lisa Cuddy. He wasn't about to risk losing his best friend over the hospital black widow, of course. He had his own interests to look out for.

Then again, the image of James Wilson writhing in Lisa Cuddy's bed did make him unconsciously hold his cane a little bit tighter, making the backs of his knuckles turn deathly white.

"Dr. Wilson, are you all right?" Tim asked, innocently. "I mean, I'm sure Dr. Cuddy won't mind…"

"Won't mind?" Cuddy seemed to have finally found her voice again. "Artemis, that is _enough_. You have embarrassed me and yourself _and _Dr. Wilson—"

"What about me?" House whined purposefully. "_She_," he pointed at the still smiling and angelic Tim. "In all her evil gory-glory, that scarlet woman molested me!"

"**Again**, as if you _didn't_ enjoy it!" Cuddy hissed viciously then turned to Wilson. "Dr. Wilson, I am _so _sorry for my friend's behavior. Very much like Dr. House, she's been hounded by the Greystone Park since the eighties a number of times already. They believe she'll be a fine specimen for character studies…"

"Darling, you're mistaken," Tim said, soothingly. "They've been hounding me since my dimwit of a mother brought me into the world. Honestly, of all people, I think _you _would know this…"

"Artemis, seriously," Cuddy said and the warning was thick in her voice.

Tim stared at her until the corners of her lips drooped into a sad pout. "Okay, okay…I'll behave."

Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest. "Apologize to Dr. Wilson."

"She's very much evil, you see if she can control me like this," Tim said to Wilson. "You'll excuse me for being so bold, wouldn't you?" she set her sea-green eyes on him piteously. "I'm just looking out for my friend, you see I really want her to get screwed already…"

"Damn it, Tim," Cuddy said before she could stop herself.

House stared at her as Tim grinned at Cuddy began rubbing her temple. She sighed, "Wilson."

"Uh, yeah?" Wilson stammered, out of his sputtering self now.

"Come on," she grabbed his arm softly. "Leave them. If they want to have sex, let them. They will, eventually anyway, and you best not see it. I wouldn't know who'd be worst…"

"Hey!" Tim and House said at the same time.

The diagnostician glared at the visiting woman who was staring at the other two who were now linked hand to arm. _This _was her fault. Her, her big mouth and idiot planning.

This was why he always hated crazy bitches.

Cuddy tugged softly on Wilson's arm, "We have some planning for Joseph Eckley for now so will you, please Wilson?"

"Oh for the love of God," Tim whined, throwing her hands up. "Fine! Dr. Wilson," she slapped Cuddy's hand away. "I'm sorry for my…trucker-whore-ness. I just love winding Lisa up and if you were built in any way like me, you would find it quite enjoyable as well. I'm sorry."

She said it with such sincerity, House was left confused whether she meant it or she was just a damned good actress. Scarlet woman indeed.

"And Lee-la," Tim said and Cuddy looked at her, somewhat appeased now but not completely as she stared at her with a grave look on her face. "I wasn't even touching your man-boy's family jewels, okay? If I was, I didn't know, maybe they're just _that_ small…"

"Hey!" House growled. "You wanna prove that right here?"

Tim laughed, tossing her head back. "And to prove to you I am not interested in your Diagnostician…" with that she turned to Wilson, grabbed the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his in a crushing kiss.

House stood, shocked as well as Cuddy while Wilson stood awkwardly, eyes wide while the woman's lips were pressed to his. It lasted a few seconds until Tim pulled back, her thumbs wiping the red splotches of lipstick from the corners of his lips, smiling. "There."

Wilson stood, dazed, hand gripping the doorframe, the other, Cuddy's shoulder as she stood, eyes wide, frozen. House stared at her.

"There," she said, wiping her below her bottom lip. "All done, no harm, no foul. It was a rule during the forties than movie kisses weren't to last more than three seconds, I think I made the cut. Who says I didn't know Hitchcock, eh?" She turned to Cuddy, hand on her hip. "Lee?"

Cuddy stared.

"Oh for the love of…" Tim moaned. "Do I have to kiss _you _to prove a fucking point?"

"Yes," House said immediately. "You know, just to prove you're not into me."

"No," Cuddy said, reaching across them all to slap House on the arm. "Shut up. Get to your team or get your scrawny ass to the clinic."

"Scrawny? You insult me!" House moaned. "I'm _fit_."

Wilson snickered, "House, come on."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Wilson," Tim purred, making Wilson blush. "And I must say, you have the softest lips I've ever kissed…well, for less than three seconds."

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Thanks…"

"He puts petroleum jelly on them and Nivea Cherry flavored lip balm for girls before going to bed," House snarked, not at all pleased he only got molested and Wilson got a kiss.

Not that he wanted to kiss Tim, the old bitch, but Cuddy was standing pretty lonesome and their kiss from few nights ago hadn't been so bad.

"Tim, stop harassing the man," Cuddy chastised. "Wilson, I'll see you and please, at least let House do an hour today? You two, if you're scheduled, I need to finish the last of Dr. Eckley's papers and termination proceedings before handing them off to HR."

Wilson smiled, "Yes, Lisa. I'll make sure House doesn't kill his patient."

Cuddy smiled before turning to House with a frown, "Dr. House."

House grinned, "Yes, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Get to work," she said before turning, hooking a hand on Tim's arm and dragging out.

"Bye-bye James!" Tim said with a giggle. "I hope to kiss you again soon!"

Wilson waved, shyly. "You too…uh, Tim…"

They both watched as the two women walked away. House even shuffled out, watching as Tim playfully jumped out of Cuddy's grip, only to earn herself a pinch on her forearm to which she exclaimed loudly and dramatically, "Ow! Abuse! Abuse!"

"Wow," Wilson chuckled, "She's a little firecracker, isn't she?"

"She's a little cracked, yes," House muttered. "But you smooched with her so…who really knows how cracked?"

Wilson frowned, "Come on, we've got to see your team."

"No we don't," House protested.

"Okay," Wilson sighed. "So, what were you doing letting Cuddy's best friend grope you?"

"Hey," House said, raising one hand in a sign of surrender. "Can I help it if chicks dig me?"

Wilson snorted, "If you don't stop getting friendly with Cuddy's best friend, yes, she'll be _digging _you a grave, House."

The taller small stared at him, "Why?"

"You really want me to say it?" Wilson sighed. "She likes you and she was jealous."

House grinned, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Cool, huh?"

Cuddy was jealous—_jealous—_after seeing a woman, her best friend no less, with her hand on his crotch. And it was so out there, so blatantly obvious that it was enough to let her lose her legendary sense of control that could have rivaled the former military prison Alcatraz.

That was beyond awesome.

Wilson rolled his eyes, "Grow up."

The image of Lisa Cuddy wrapped around a pole emerged again and House felt a sudden stirring he knew Wilson wouldn't want to know about.

He smirked, "_Way_ ahead of you."

-o0o-

"Shut up," Cuddy hissed as Tim screamed abuse again as they exited the entrance of the Ivy Hall. "Of all the most insane things you could have done, you do _this_."

"Which one?" Tim asked as Cuddy latched on to her arm again, dragging her across the lobby, ignoring her staring employees and visitors.

"Groping my Diagnostician _and _kissing my Oncologist," Cuddy spat in a low voice, jerking her arm lightly to prove her point. "God, you are worse than him."

Tim rolled her eye, "Of course I am. Honestly, Lisa, you're underestimating me which is very much not like you. So, I groped your man-boy, it's not like I slept with him. No marking of the territory needed. He's still _your _tripod, I wouldn't dream of stealing that from you."

"And my Oncologist?" she didn't bother acknowledging the well placed words Tim had laid. There was no romantic interest between her and Greg House, not anymore of course since the rat bastard pretty much played her only to go home with one of his hookers. Fat chance she was letting him anywhere near her breasts again.

Tim always did say _Hell hath no fury like Lisa pissed off _and she was _definitely _pissed off about so many things beyond the breast and table incident. The man was simply infuriating.

And to see him getting too cozy with Tim, her _best friend_, was another reason to want to strangle the man-child with her bare hands. The heartless bastard just wasn't stopping.

She had to do something and the first thing on her list was to get Tim the hell away from him and his stupid piano and his stupid charms. Stupid, stupid, stupid—there was _no way_ she was letting him _hurt _her best friend.

Yes, she was doing this for Tim. It wasn't as if she was still interested, of course _not_.

"Cute in a tragic sort of way," Tim said, letting herself be dragged along. "Didn't you mention his girlfriend just died?"

"Yes, so please, Tim, no games," Cuddy said quietly, pulling her into the Clinic now.

Tim scoffed, "I may be a bitch but I am not heartless, Lisa. Give me more credit, I am not Barbara _the Barbarian _Bennett nor do I ever wish to be."

Cuddy froze, her hand latching on tighter around Tim's arm, making her wince.

"Dying arm," Tim said, prying her fingers off slowly. "Lisa?"

Cuddy stood there, frozen, staring in space with wide eyes. One of the nurses walked by, carrying a folder then stopped, watching her curiously. It was the same nurse who showed her the photograph. "Dr. Cuddy, is something wrong?"

"She's not having a seizure. I think…" Tim said, this time, holding on to Cuddy's arm. "She's fine, really."

But their voices were nothing more than just a distant sound as Cuddy stood there, frozen, wondering how she had not thought about it before deciding to go back home. How could she have not thought about it sooner? She should have and now she was stuck.

"Lee?"

Shaking her head slightly, Cuddy turned to the nurse. "Yes, Brenda?"

"Uh, you have Clinic today," Brenda said, looking unsure. "But you only have an hour and we're below capacity so…are you sure you're okay, Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy smiled, "I'm fine, but Dr. Wilson and Dr. House are currently at the Ivy Hall—don't ask—so if you see them, please, remind them of their hours."

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy," Brenda said. "Oh, and Dr. Taylor is in Exam Room Three working his hours, but he said he'd like to talk to you soon about Santa Claus."

Cuddy nodded, smiling wider. "Oh, right. How could I forget? I have a feeling this Christmas will be better than last year's. Dr. Taylor and I want the kids to have fun."

"You always do," Brenda smiled. "I'll be working on shift that night, by the way. Little Andy says he's got a surprise for you."

"Does he?" the Dean replied. "Well, I should go visit them today. I haven't come by in a while."

"Yes, he's been asking about you," Brenda said, grinning. "And Cody called about your desk. The delivery was delayed this morning due to some accidents, but she said they're on their way now."

Cuddy nodded, "Better clear out my old one then."

"I really don't know why," Brenda mused. "That's such a lovely desk. Why would you want to replace it?"

"It's my old one from Med School," Cuddy answered. "I'd rather have it in my home than here where it might get damaged like the other one I had."

Brenda frowned, "Oh, yes. Blood spatter isn't something I'd like for something so beautiful."

"Exactly," Cuddy turned. "I'll get right on my Clinic later, I'll have to deal with my desk first."

Grabbing Tim again, she pulled them both into her office, waving at Cody.

"Your new desk will be here in a few minutes, Dr. Cuddy," Cody said. "I've paged someone from Tech to take care of your computer."

Cuddy smiled, "Thank you, Cody. You are the best."

"You're welcome, Dr. Cuddy," Cody blushed as she got back to work.

"I just threw up in my mouth," Tim moaned as she slipped into the office. "Why are you so fucking nice, you two-faced bitch?"

"Exactly what you said," Curry smirked. "I'm two-faced. Or maybe I just _like _treating my good employees properly, but that would just be insane, right?"

"Of course," Tim said sarcastically. "What do you think about 'Little Drummer Boy'?"

"It's a nice holiday song, why?" Cuddy asked, wondering what was happening with Tim's head now. "You don't like the holidays."

"Yes, I do," Tim said, defensively.

"No," Cuddy said, shaking her head. "You _don't _like holidays, you like getting wasted on holidays."

Tim shrugged, "And the presents aren't so bad either—if you're hooking up with the rich tasteful ones rather than the losers."

"And you know just how to pick 'em, don't you?" Cuddy teased. "Whatever happened to that duke you were dating…from Denmark, was it?"

Tim rolled her eyes, "Stupid pansy. He was nice, smooth and lovely at first…but god, he was worst than a woman! Son clingy and uptight, it's annoying. I want…I want a—you know, I want a man…like-like…"

"Dante," Cuddy offered. "That model you dated?"

"He was not a model," Tim spat. "You honestly think I'd date a _model_? Are you out of your fucking mind? It'd be like dating an actor, only fucking lower! He was an artist. He was very into Warhol."

"Ah," Cuddy said. "My bad."

Tim sighed, "Anyway, I'm planning something different this year…just a small thing."

"Like?"

"A choir teacher called me a few days ago," Tim began, fidgeting with her thumbs as she took the seat in front of Cuddy's desk and Cuddy moved to her own seat. "He formed a choir of some sort in a small orphanage down in the East Village. He wanted to see if he could…get a show and I said I would think about it."

Cuddy smiled from her seat, "Really? What, like for charity?"

"Yes," Tim said, shrugging. "The kids are mostly young boys and girls who have no families and or were abandoned. I'm not much into charity except for that Amnesty International thing we have, but what do you think?"

"I think it's great," Cuddy said with no hesitation. While she was very much into charity, apart from the yearly donations they both sent for Amnesty International, the only thing remotely close to charity Tim ever touched were the public charity events for celebrities and well-known socialites around New York. Cuddy always insisted she join some sort of group, but Tim always insisted she was too busy.

Tim wasn't selfish, she was far from it, but it was true that her main problem was time.

"Good," Tim smiled. "I was thinking about doing a show, a few days before Christmas or something. It's very sudden, but it's going to be a one night thing. We'll post posters, get some of the old hags on the Upper East Side to come in, get some media in…I think it might work if we have enough resources."

"Christmas is two weeks away," Cuddy said, frowning. "You can probably get the families from the Upper East Side, but media? I mean, yes, they'll come—you are, after all, Tim Theodoratus, but what about the kids? Are they ready?"

Tim nodded, "They are. They've been trying to get someone to pick up their show, but as always, the shows are booked. _I'm _booked but all your stupid charity talk has gotten to me. I'll announce it, declare that I am willing to give the money back for the tickets to those who _don't _want to watch. The tickets spent for the show will _all _go to the home as well as money of those willing to donate. It's very…messy, it could get stupid, but I think I have enough people to get on it."

"Sounds good," Cuddy said, smiling. "You have my vote and donation. If you want, we can have people around here know about it. I've got some donors from New York who might be interested…and I'm _sure _Dr. Wilson will want to help out as well."

Tim smiled, "Oh, Lisa, that sounds great and speaking about Dr. Wilson...he _does _have the softest lips I've kissed in three seconds. And he's not bad looking too."

"Tim."

"I'm not kidding," Tim said, trying to appear as honest as possible. "In fact, Dr. James Wilson looks like he could be a sweet guy…"

"He _is_," Cuddy said, gritting her teeth. "But honesty, Tim, he hasn't had that good of a year. I don't even know if he's ready to date and," her eyes narrowed. "What the hell was that about anyway and what were you and House _doing_?"

"We were just talking," Tim said, sighing. "We were talking about potential guys who would be suited to take your fake re-virginity away."

Cuddy groaned, "You and _House_?"

"Well, he was there," Tim shrugged. "And I was there. What else were we supposed to talk about? Dogs? His cane? Although I did come close to touching his…"

"Oh god," Cuddy moaned, holding her head and closing her eyes. "What were you even doing with your hand…_there_?"

Tim laughed, "Nothing, but did you see his face? Fucking priceless, I have to say." Cuddy gave her a look to say she was not amused. "Okay, okay. While talking about your potential bonkers, we got to talking about…me and him, you know?"

Cuddy's eyes widened, "No, you _didn't_…"

"Easy, easy!" Tim said, holding her hands up. "I was just _teasing_, for fuck's sake! We were talking about Wilson and I started teasing him about his best friend and your best friend hooking up being something perfect once you and Wilson _do _hook up. It was all play, darling and to be quite honest, he didn't seem interested at all."

"Tim, are you insane?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe you."

"Which part?" Cuddy got up, ready to pounce on her from across the desk, but she stood up, hands up. "Okay! Okay! _One_, he wasn't interested in me and fucking _two_, he was pretty pissed about the thought of you and Wilson!"

The only time Tim was ever scared of Cuddy was when she was really angry or, in rarer times, jealous. And today…

Of course, Cuddy wasn't jealous. Dr. House and Dr. Wilson were her employees not toys suited for Tim's games and plays. No, she wasn't jealous. This was simply of her interest as their boss. Nothing more, nothing freaking less…

Cuddy stopped, hands laid flat on her desk, breathing deeply in and out and trying to will away the image of House and her best friend tangled together in her sheets. Instinctively, her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles resting hard against the dark surface of her desk.

Bad, bad, bad, **bad** image…and Cuddy didn't like it one bit.

"Geez, you still know how to scare me. Fuck. The man was jealous, all right?" Tim said, easing herself back into her seat. "He was jealous. Plain and simple and you know what…"

Cuddy watched her smile, "So are you."

"What?"

"You're jealous," Tim said knowingly. "And you were jealous when you saw me near his family jewels. You were and still are jealous." She laughed. "And I always told you green was not your color, honey. How right was I?"

Cuddy felt her cheeks burn, "I was and am not jealous, Tim, but he is my head of Diagnostics, he is, I begrudgingly say so, brilliant and he is a screwball. He's distracted enough by his toys, his stupid human puzzles and his hookers, I don't need _you _adding to that."

"Hookers," Tim quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow curiously, "As in he pays for sex? You're weren't kidding or being bitchy?"

Cuddy felt a bubble of anger start again at the pit of her stomach, "Yes, and I saw him with one of his own three weeks ago, the smug bastard."

"Red looks good on you," Tim commented off handedly, motioning to her cheeks. "And what do you mean you saw him with one? As in you saw him…" she made a motion. "You know…"

Cuddy almost gagged, "God _no_! Are you crazy? No, no. He brought one in as a fake patient and I saw them, preparing to leave together in his office…and let me tell you, a _lot _of preparing was happening all right. She was probably good at her job. He would want nothing but the best…"

"The man has standards," Tim said, nodding then stopped at Cuddy's look. "Right, I mean, I'm sure she was a skanky-loser-whore, okay?" She shook her head. "Well, this feels like the fifth grade all over again…"

"Shut up," Cuddy snapped, irritated as a recon image played in her mind again, the _tattoos _making another replay. "It's the stupidest thing he's ever done, bringing _it _here. Stupid arrogant smug bastard…"

"Wait," Tim said. "You said you saw them…you didn't say anything? How do you know she was a hooker? Was she like…"

"Because she was!" Cuddy cried, her frustration at the situation eating at her. "It was obvious she was and he brought her here to be his fake patient and she came and they were together and they left together and I didn't say anything when I saw them because I was standing outside his office like some idiot because I was dumb enough to walk up and thank him for getting my stupid desk and I hate him because he's an idiot and he pisses me off and can't do anything about it because he's a goddamned good doctor and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tim said, standing up. "You're turning _red_ and not the good kind so, honey," she moved around the desk and behind her, her hands landing on Cuddy's shoulders, rubbing soothingly. "Let's not lose our heads, okay? You're too pretty. Now, breathe…"

Cuddy didn't.

"I said _breathe_," Tim gripped her shoulders tightly, digging her nails into the soft fabric of her blouse, right into her skin with a death grip.

"Ow," Cuddy complained then did as she was told. "That hurt."

"Shut up and breathe again," Tim commanded. "You were running your sentences like God didn't invent the space bar so, breathe, honey and then talk because I didn't know what the hell you were saying except 'fake', 'stupid', 'goddamned' and 'doctor'. Breathe."

Cuddy did again, "I did lose my head."

"Yeah, you did," Tim affirmed in a soothing voice. "Now tell me what you were trying to say."

"I was coming up to thank him to get my desk and I saw them," Cuddy said, sighing. "And then it just clicked, you know? He will always be a bastard, he will never want anything more than hookers and I was an idiot for thinking the desk meant something."

"Did you want it to mean something?"

"No, not really," Cuddy lied. "But it's…it's kind of a comfort to be reminded once in a while that he _knows _he's human, right? I mean…I know he is, sometimes I don't think he does."

"Why are you angry about the hooker?"

"I wasn't jealous," Cuddy said stubbornly, clenching her fists only to receive another painful grip.

"I didn't say you were," Tim pressed. "I'm asking why."

Cuddy pouted slightly before answering. "I…I'm angry because he's so much better than that."

"How?"

"He's an ass," she muttered. "He has a problem with pain and Vicodin—no, plain and simple, _he's got a __**drug **__problem_—he is a pain, he doesn't listen to anyone and he's emotionally crippled. He is all of that and more, but he's not a terrible person. He's brilliant, he's funny…he plays music and he cares, in his own way. Paying for sex, paying for some human contact…it's not him. He's more than that…he deserves someone who will care for him, love him despite everything and just…be there with him. He doesn't believe it, he probably never will, but he deserves someone and, there is someone. I'm sure of that."

"How are you so sure that there is someone for him who will love and care despite his flaws?"

"They're not flaws," Cuddy answered immediately. "They're not. It's who he is. And I am sure because…because…I'm just sure, okay? He'll hate me, he'll call me naïve for thinking and saying so, but I'm sure. There's someone."

"Do you…"

Cuddy shook her head, "I can't do this. I'm sorry." She stood up, straightening her lab coat and her blouse. "I can't, Tim…I have a lot to do today before we leave."

And she didn't want to think about anything to do with Greg House. The man was a plague enough, he invaded her thoughts and her every day life, she couldn't let him get involved with her conversations with Tim anymore. She just couldn't.

Tim smiled, pulling her into a hug, the chair between them. "I understand."

She pulled back, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Cuddy turned to her desk and began emptying her drawers as Tim went back to her seat in front of her. She needed to empty her desk and wait for someone to dismantle her computer and set it up again later. Her desk needed to be emptied.

The new one will be there soon.

-o0o-

House lay on Wilson's couch, twirling his cane in the air while the Oncologist did his paperwork for his patient who was about to enter a Clinical Trial. His iPod lay on his chest, playing _'Minnie the Moocher'_ with him singing along obnoxiously. Unknown to him, the Oncologist had put on a pair of ear plugs and was now working in absolute silence.

Between scribbling his notes and findings on appropriate lines, Wilson let his mind think about the last couple of days' events. Of course, House was acting more obnoxious than usual with his curiosity and the fact that Cuddy seemed to be ignoring him, but all in all, he wasn't as Wilson thought he would. A part of him thought maybe it was due to the fact that Cuddy threw a paperweight at him _and _the fact that the one stealing her attention away was a _woman_.

Like he would ever admit he was jealous…of course not, not House.

Then there was Cuddy who was being too aloof with the whole lying-stranger thing. It did slip past Wilson that Cuddy wasn't too keen about keeping him away and he had his suspicions, but of course, those suspicions would have to stay low until Lucas finds something in New York again. It was shock enough to Wilson's system that Nathan Winslow lied about having a brother, but then a voice in his head—that sounded suspiciously like House—chanted, _Everybody lies_.

Of course, it was true and right so Wilson found himself wondering if there was really something to be worried about. He truly hoped not.

In his mind, the same voice, nagged that this was something to do with Amber, that like House's previous argument on his father's funeral, he was afraid of losing someone else. It was a truth, Wilson was afraid to lose House, but in his mind, it was also true that he was also afraid to lose Cuddy because over the years, she'd began to matter more in his life.

Over the years, Lisa Cuddy had learned to worm her way into his heart up to the point now that she wasn't just his boss now, she was his friend and someone he had learned to care deeply for. She'd been there for him in so many ways, however small.

She'd been there when Julie and he were having problems, giving him as much time and space as possible while wordlessly standing by his side as he went through the motions. Her soft voice conveyed her sadness for him when she found out he had moved out, telling him she was there if he needed her. She was also there when Amber died, bringing food she cooked herself to his place and tidied up when he could barely move or do anything for himself. She was there to talk him through his sorrow and mourning.

Wilson had asked, weakly and in tears, if she'd lost anyone like Amber. She said no, but she could imagine how it must be. The pain had been in her voice that somehow now left him wondering if she'd been honest with him.

Was she? He wondered.

That was why he had made it a point to be there for her as well, after he was back as Dr. James Wilson, to be there for her when she needed someone. She didn't really have a someone, that was something he noticed and decided he could be that someone.

Everybody needs someone, right? House would have to learn to share, somehow.

Lisa Cuddy barely took care of her self as it was, Wilson would do that for her, whether she liked it or not. He wasn't about to lose another.

And this was the exact reason why Wilson was agonizing over why she needed to be careful around Nathan Winslow. There was something about the man. He was too smooth, too perfect and on top of that, a damned good liar.

Wilson didn't want to thing of the fifty-thousand ways this could go to hell.

He decided he would need to talk to Lucas as soon as possible.

The slamming of a cane on top of his papers shocked him out of his reverie. He looked up, startled to see House grinning dangerously down at him. His mouth moved and of course, he couldn't hear a thing.

Before he knew it, House raised his fist and it came barreling towards him. He jumped back, bringing his chair with him. Unfortunately, the force was enough to knock his chair sideways and send it toppling over to the floor.

He didn't hear it, but he was sure there had to have been a sick crack when his head met the floor of his office.

Groaning, he pulled out his ear plugs, "House, what the hell?"

"I asked you if you'd join my experiment and you didn't answer," House said innocently as he limped towards him. "I took it as a yes."

"And what experiment would that be?" Wilson asked from his position from the floor.

House made no offer to help him up, "About how far you could jump with your chair when I pretend I'm going to punch you in the face."

Wilson glared at him, still making no move to get up. "You could have killed me."

"That was part of the experiment too."

Wilson sighed, "Shut up and help me."

"Can't," House said, shrugging. "Too crippled for that, I'm useless that way."

So he lay there, "Why are you doing this?"

"I was bored."

"Don't you have a patient?" he asked.

"She's dying."

"Really? What happened?" Wilson asked, curious.

"We think its some incurable genetic disease without a cure," he shrugged. "The usual."

"Have you confirmed it?"

"My minions are at it," he said then sighed happily. "_Minions_, **my **minions…don't you just love the sound of that, Jimmy?"

"Yeah," Wilson said gruffly as he tried to get up. "It's like _legion _when I hear it in the middle of _Satan's _and _of demons_. About the same feeling, yes, Greg."

"You're ugly when you're jealous, Mr. Oncology _Ward_," House said snottily. "Something you and Lisa-funbags have in common."

"Don't call her that," Wilson chastised weakly, now sitting with his legs folded in front of him, knees on his elbow.

"Oh, did I hurt Jimmy's feelings when I made fun of _Lisa_?" House mocked, making mewling sounds. "God, you're a pansy…why am I friends with you?"

"For a lot of reasons, like," he thought for a moment. "Right, the fact I'm the only one who can stand you without being paid to."

House frowned. "You are a mean person."

"And you are a ray of sunshine," Wilson said, rolling his eyes then held the back of his head. "My head hurts, thanks to you."

"Poor Jimmy," House continued to mock. "Want me to call Lisa to kiss it better again?"

"Yes."

He watched the frown descend on the Diagnostician's face.

"I'm kidding."

"Of course you were," House muttered. "Since she kissed you yesterday, of course you're kidding…"

Wilson had to laugh, "And you call me pathetic." House gave him a look. "I'm not kidding. You're so transparent, what happened to you? You've got walls all over yourself that could rival Fort Knox, now at the very mention of _Cuddy _kissing _me_, you get uptight and transparent. What the hell happened?"

House opened his mouth then closed it again, very much like a fish.

"You know what?" Wilson said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want to know. My head is throbbing but I will say this…_kiss her_. Because it's obvious you want to do it _again_ and yes, I can't blame you. I've said it before, she's a beautiful, smart, funny and, most of all, tough enough to handle you. She's a match for you so…go out there and kiss her again."

"Do you hate me? You really want me to die?" was the swift retort but it was obvious his heart wasn't in it. "I thought we had something deeper, Jim."

"Of course we have," Wilson said with fake sincerity. "But Lisa would be better for you, House. Trust me, she looks much, _much_ better in Victoria's Secret than me."

It was a joke, of course, but House gave him a look.

"Not that I've ever seen her in-in anything like-like, you know, uh," Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Like…like that."

House grinned, "You're so easy to trip."

Wilson chuckled, relieved. "Of course I am."

House twirled his cane, looking thoughtful.

"You know what?" Wilson asked, hand still on his neck. "I smacked my head pretty bad. I'm going to need to head to the Clinic. You can clock in with your hours while I get checked."

House frowned, "Are you out of your mind? I'm not going down there."

"I'll come in and pretend to be your patient, since you did this to me," Wilson said tiredly. "And think of it this way…you'll earn some points in Cuddy's good graces. It might make up some of the things you did and she might jus lift than ban she has on you."

"Since when did her banning work on _me_?" House grumbled.

"Since I noticed you're in here instead of in her office tormenting her," the Oncologist said knowingly. "Come on, a few runny noses, a crotch rot or two…I'd think that's a small price to pay if it'll get you ringing Cuddy's doorbell, right?"

A lecherous grin appeared on House's face.

"Come on," Wilson said as he pushed himself up. "Earn some points, don't mention Lucas or that weird Winslow guy and make comments about the usual like her breasts or, heaven forbid, tell her she looks nice today. Just earn your points with your Clinic and…who knows?"

The cane twirled high in the air before it landed with a slight thud on it's rubber tip. "You're buying me dinner for this."

"Scout's honor, House," Wilson said with a grin and they both headed out and they filled the gaps in their conversation with talks of a Christmas bonus DVD of Monster Trucks with instant replay and some inside view of the Gravedigger.

Wilson smiled to himself, more than satisfied despite the throbbing in the back of his head.

He wasn't one to toot his own horn but, damn, he was batting a thousand today.

-o0o-

"Dr. Cuddy."

Tim and Cuddy looked up to see Brenda at the doors, her head poked in. "Yes?"

"There's…well, there's something you'd want to see," Brenda said, bouncing slightly.

_Now her day was just getting better…_

She suppressed a sigh, "Who is it? Tell me it isn't House…"

"It's Dr. House," Brenda said, grinning. "But…not what you think."

Cuddy got up, motioning for Tim to stay and she headed out of her office. She raised an eyebrow at Brenda who just grinned at her. "Dr. Wilson came in for some…treatment. He fell of his chair."

"And?"

They headed out the Clinic where Wilson was standing at the desk, writing on a patient file. House was nowhere to be seen. Cuddy gave Brenda a look.

"Exam Room Two."

Cuddy suppressed another sigh and made sure not to roll her eyes. Whatever House had hatched up, it had to be worth it if it was Brenda, but a part of her was wondering if, just maybe, her head nurse had just cracked and decided to join the darker side.

She sure as hell wasn't the Archangel, but House was certainly darker than her.

Heading to the exam room, she opened the door without knocking only to walk into House.

And a patient.

The patient was a baby, held by her mother, and she was pink and fluffy all over with her bonnet, her peeking onesie under her coat, cute little mittens and somehow matching cute pink cheeks. She was giggling as her mother held her, giggling as House rubbed the tip of her nose with the tip of a stuffed teddy bear's nose, making soft sounds.

"Oink," House rumbled. "She's two but she won't know the difference until she's five, four if you're lucky and she's smart."

The mother laughed. "She's pretty smart."

"Oink, oink," House rumbled again, and the baby giggled louder. "She's got a cold, here's a script and she should be fine in a day or two. We're _that_ good."

"Thank you," the woman chuckled. "You're very good with kids…"

"Oink," House went, subtlety avoiding a response and the baby giggled. He handed the mother a slip of paper and she stood up.

"Say 'bye-bye, doctor'," the woman held on to her daughter's hand and waved it at House. "Say 'bye-bye', Annie…"

House handed her the bear, "She's not that smart yet. Oink."

The woman just smiled, "Thank you, Dr. House and happy holidays."

House nodded and the woman stood up, only then spotting Cuddy. She smiled brightly, "Oh hello, uh…"

"That would be Dr. Lisa Cuddy," House said, looking at Cuddy as if daring her to comment with his eyes digging into hers. "She is my boss."

"Oh," the woman said, smiling. "Well, hello. Dr. House was just checking my Annie. She's got a bit of a cold, but being a first time mom…I was just a bit paranoid."

Cuddy smiled, shaking her head. "No, you're not being paranoid," she smiled as she met the baby, touching her mitten-covered hands. "There's no such thing as being too safe when it comes to babies, especially at such a prone age." She ticked the baby's belly, eliciting a new bout of giggles from her, making her clap her hands soundlessly.

"Finally, a doctor—well, apart from Dr. House," she glanced at the doctor behind her. "Who understands…this whole baby thing has just been driving me insane…I always seem to worry."

Cuddy nodded understandingly, "Completely natural, Mrs..."

"Ballard. Angela Ballard," she smiled. "Are you a mother too, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Oh, no," Cuddy tried not to flinch. "No, but I'm around babies well enough to understand."

"Oh," Angela said. "You should be. Annie doesn't easily take to strangers very well and you and Dr. House are an exception."

Cuddy smiled and ignored the stabbing pain she seemed to feel from the bottom of her stomach that immediately spread all over her body. "Thank you."

"We'll be going now," Angela said. "Say 'bye-bye', Annie."

The little girl giggled again as she walked past Cuddy, twisting around in her mother's arms and leaping a little enough to catch a lock of hair from Cuddy's shoulder. She giggled and flailed her arms, as if waving, her cheeks pink with glee.

Cuddy waited until the door was shut behind her to look at House. Her eyes met his and she couldn't help but feel the rest of the few weeks animosity and hostility slip away in pieces. She'd been so angry, so ready to fight him but from what had taken place just moments ago, she felt none the strength to fight now—may it be that rare moment seeing House with a child or just her feeling the exhaustion of being so angry for so long.

Or the sadness that was slowly creeping into her heart again, hearing the words the woman had just said, remembering what House had said before he kissed her.

The factors were too many that she decided not to bother and just stood there, staring at him, wondering why she was there at all, wondering she couldn't seem to find any words to say.

As always, House beat her to it. "Okay then, boss." He got up, walking past her with the patient folder in his free hand.

The alarms went off in her head and she turned just as he was at the door, "House."

_Don't let him walk away again._

He stopped but didn't look at her. "Cuddy."

"I…" the words seemed stuck right in her throat.

_Say something, anything._

She stood there, staring at the back of his head.

_Anything stupid would work too, just say something…_

"Right," he said and opened the door. "Yeah."

And with that, he walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving her in the empty room alone.

-o0o-

"Dr. House checks out," House said, slapping the folder on the desk in front of Nurse Braindead-Brenda. "The boss lady let me out early."

Wilson looked up, "You're done?"

"Yeah," House said, tossing the folder aside.

"You've barely got an hour in," Wilson complained.

"My, Dr. Cuddy," House said loudly. "I had _no idea _you ran out of hormone pills this week. You should have asked me, I could have snuck you a box across the border."

Wilson frowned, "What?"

"Nothing," House said, popping a pill in his mouth. "You would probably get offended—gay jokes and all. I'm such an insensitive jackass." He turned to Brenda. "Dr. Cuddy will be taking over Exam Room Two, she's in there. You can send a patient in."

"What?" the nurse said. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," House spat, grabbing a folder, "Is there a Cole Dandridge here?"

A distinguished looking man in a suit stood up and House decided to rethink his action. "Dr. Taylor will be with you shortly." He grabbed another folder, "Riley Thomas?"

"House, what are you doing?" Wilson asked, rubbing his temple.

"Doing my Clinic duty," House said just as a teenager dressed like a goth, stood up. "Exam Room Two, please, Dr. Cuddy is waiting." He tossed her the folder and motioned with his cane. "Dr. House is definitely _out_. I've got some porn up in my office that needs my _undivided _attention."

Limping out, he didn't wait for Wilson who was immediately submitting his excuses to the Nurse and sending out his apologies. In a predictable five second count, Wilson was with him, following him out the glass doors of the Clinic.

"House, what was that about? What happened in the Exam Room?" Wilson asked, ever curious. "House?"

"Nothing," House muttered. "But you owe me dinner. I did my job, I was a good boy to mommy and she saw me play nice so there."

"She saw you play nice…"

"Yes," House said, rolling his eyes. "So you owe me."

"She saw you play nice, isn't that a good thing?" Wilson asked.

House glared at him, "No."

Wilson sighed. "House…."

"Oh, look, it's," he glanced at his watch. "A quarter to-leave-me-alone. Go away."

"House."

Suddenly, remembering the tender look in Cuddy's eyes then replaying the scene with Angela and Annie Ballard and the kiss they'd shared, House decided he had had enough. A feeling of anger surged back in, seemingly like the one he had just felt in the Clinic only more violent, gripped him and the walls that would now be known as Fort House Knox came up.

He swung his cane, blocking Wilson on the chest. "Dr. Wilson, I think I hear a dying patient scream for you so unless you don't want to get acquainted with my _little, little Greg_ then I suggest you leave me alone."

"What? House…"

House glared, a look he knew Wilson would understand as back off. "Leave me alone."

Ignoring the confusion and the questions on the Oncologist's face, House walked away and left him. He wasn't one for emotions and all the tangled mess he'd thrown himself into was now starting to rub him the wrong way. The situation, whatever it was, with Cuddy, was now grating on his nerves.

He wasn't emotional, he didn't care about earning points for affection or attention, he didn't like doing what he was supposed to do and he didn't share tender moments with his boss. House wasn't any of that and he didn't want it.

He walked away, it was easier.

If let Wilson have his say, he knew he would adamantly insist this was him closing off.

Of course it was, House just didn't give a shit.

-o0o-

"I can't believe you brought me here."

Tim laughed as they slipped past the velvet ropes. Music was thumping all over, people—mainly men in business suits—were everywhere. It wasn't crowded, not like a club, but it had a fair amount of people in it which was a consolation of sorts for Lisa, perhaps. The music wasn't too loud and the lights were dimmed, the walls were a deep alluring red while the lights were in strips of white, yellow and purple flittering about the room in different directions.

They had their coats checked—well, Tim had their coats checked while Lisa stood staring at the woman checking their coats. She was African-American wearing a black lace bustier-corset, with the back tied in zigzag laces at the back, stopping just above her rear end where her black lace panties with matching garter belts hung suspended, leading to some fine looking lace-topped fishnets. She looks liked she walked out Victoria's Secret catalog showcasing some expensive lingerie. She was gorgeous.

Lisa wasn't pretending she hadn't seen someone like that, but Tim knew she had been out of the wild for some time now and was just soaking it all up again. It was like going back for them, really.

"How did you even find this place?" Cuddy asked as Tim laced their arms together, heading right for the stage where an audience of men was watching as four women strutted and danced on stage wearing corsets, bustier, fishnets and lingerie much like the woman at coat-check.

"Didn't you hear, darling?" Tim smiled. "Burlesque is all the rage these days. We don't like strippers in bikini now, we love them in fine lace, corsets and fishnets!"

The stage was filled with red curtains, the design seemingly inspired by Opera National de Paris with the red velvet lined with golden yellow tassels and gold embroidery that snaked up a fourth they way up. The floors were shiny in black, the lights at the edge reflecting in a burst of soft golden yellows, illuminating their dancers enchantingly.

The place was elegant which suited the finely suited men around who were sharing drinks and ogling the women as they danced, dressed provocatively and alluring them into slipping bills into their lace and satin numbers.

Tim sat beside the catwalk, waving her fingers at a passing dancer who smiled seductively at her and stopped, falling on her knees and bending back, moving her body up and down with her head thrown back. Tim clapped and pushed a bill into her the lace top of her stocking.

Cuddy watched, entranced as she watched the dark haired woman who looked like she was in her twenties, smile at Tim with her deep crimson lips stretching open to reveal perfect white teeth. She was beautiful, in the most enchanting ways and she continued to dance in front of them, moving her body around the floor, earning some whistles from the other men in the room.

Tim waved the woman forward who immediately slinked low, arching her back low while her leg wrapped around the bottom of the pole behind her, her boot clinging securely as she stretched herself to meet her customer halfway, intricately avoiding the lights without touching them.

"You know somewhere we can go?" Tim whispered seductively. "My friend and I were hoping for a private show…"

The woman pulled back, smiling. "Would you like me to bring someone for your friend?"

Tim looked around, catching the eye of a redhead dressed in an emerald green number. She smiled and waved her over. "Her."

The woman smiled, "For tonight, I am Tatiana."

She sounded American, but Tim didn't give a fuck. "Beautiful name, and the other one?"

"Whatever you want," she heard someone whisper in her ear and she turned to see the redhead towering over her with her breasts and her height.

"Perfect," Tim smiled. "Lead the way."

She turned to Lisa who was staring at her in shock and in question. "Come on, darling," she cooed into her hair as she pulled her up. "We've got our show."

Tim didn't give her time to question as she pulled her up, bringing her to meet her height and suddenly, crashed their lips together. Catcalls and whistles fled about the room and applause erupted in all directions.

Tim pulled back with a grin, satisfied that she'd left Lisa shocked enough to be pulled blindly into the direction of the VIP lounge. She needed her shocked to agree to come with them.

And just as she predicted, it worked.

-o0o-

Here are the delayed last notes and replies:

Anyway, I'm back. First off, if I ever need to give the first half of my summer a title, it's gotta be: Weeks of Hell.

Seriously. I've been having a lot of hectic weeks. You're probably not interested but I'm writing it anyway.

Last week, as you guys noticed, I had to push my brain into updating and I have to admit, writing under pressure in one hour was a total bitch. I was really scared shitless about replying because, gosh, it was a hurried, unchecked chapter with, I'm sure, a lot of errors!

Uh, anyway. My week consisted of: an impromptu family reunion, my big brother leaving again and a death in the family.

The reunion was insane, like all other reunions, the brother thing was bittersweet—meaning I wanted to strangle him and at the same time hug him…the death in the family was probably the highlight.

It doesn't sound much but here's the ticker: _my great-aunt who died was __**ONE-HUNDRED and THREE Years old.**_Not kidding and to some of you that may not be unusual, but I gotta say, that's a freakin' first for me. Yikes. If I ever do reach that age, I probably won't because I'd kill myself.

I'm not scared of dying, it's the getting old part that freaks me out. It's not about the vanity thing, it's really about the scary things old people go through like getting sick, deteriorating, losing the senses…ugh. That's just scary for me.

Nyeah.

Anyway, **REPLIES:**

_**houselover1 **_the skin falling off was total melted-brain moment. Glad you liked it! And also, thank you for reading and reviewing my other fic, With a Little Help from My Friends—my very first piece for anything resembling comedy. Thank you so much!

_**smartxblonde **_I'm happy you liked that chapter, even if I didn't. I hope you enjoyed this update. It might not be as fun, but you know…hee. I've got my ups and downs.

_**Rugbygirrl **_I see the quest for the elusive Tim is still on? Hee, good luck on that. I hope she's believable enough for you to find the real one *smiles*. We could all use a Tim of our own. I hope this chapter, with half of the gent's club scene in, was okay…the fun starts next.

_**joraco14 **_I'm glad you like Tim and House together—sometimes I weigh in whether I'll end up having you guys run after her with pitchforks, but thankfully, that hasn't happened yet. Yay!

_**jaded27 **_Hee, I adore jealous Cuddy—if you've seen Saviors. I love it when the claws come out. Meeee-ow!

_**kyrie **_If you've read Ch. 20 ^ then I hope you're happy you guessed half right on who caught them. Hee. Tim's turning out kind of crazier, huh? And I have to say…I really can't picture Nathan as Chase…hee, but whatever you like, hun, it's totally okay. Chase is a cutie anyway.

_**ceciilee **_yay! If you've read the Ch. 20, like kyrie, you got it half right too! I hope you enjoyed this new Chapter. Thanks so much for reading!

_**Kuro tenshi **_thank you for your review! I'm so glad you're liking the story so far. Please, stick around, my twisted head just came up with a lot more twists and insane turns.

_**DoctorLisaCuddy **_Ohmygod. You want Nelise. There are VERY few people who want Nelise around so I am congratulating you for being happy about Nelise. I think Nathan's okay, he's not House, but he's okay to me. I mean, House is awesome, but I say he needs to feel what it's like when another boy REALLY wants to play with his toy. That's something awesome to watch! I'm very happy someone is actually happy about Nelise. Don't worry, he'll be back…soon-ish. I'm so sorry about the play-by-play scenes. I love those too but it's eating at my time and the chapters away. Hee. My limit I think… LOL naughty. You ship Tim and Lisa too! Hee, I hope you liked their small encounter on this ep. It's nothing big, but a smooch is a smooch, right? Hee.

_**Tingz **_Oh, hun, you just joined the "Make her blush like an idiot" Club around here. Thank you so much for your kind review. I'm really glad you're enjoying my story. Hee, and thank you for liking Nathan. I think not much people who read this do…Oh, well. Your thoughts and suggestions are in mind, I promise and like you, I am a fic addict as well—for House, MD ones. We should start a group: HFAA—House Fanfic Addicts Anonymous. Sound good? Teehee…

_**yoleah **_A lot of you seem to love Tim and House together! Hopefully, you'll like the more scenes they'll have because trust me, there will be more between them! Also, thank you for reviewing my other one-shot fic, With a Little Help from My Friends. I really appreciated that, thank you always for taking the time to review stories. Thank you very much.

_**ItsNevrLupus **_It is getting fun, huh? Tim likes to get her kiss on. And hands.

_**Emzy **_as always…hee.

_**Kakashifangrl1012 **_Hee, Tim's getting whorish? I guess. She's kind of a bitch-whore with a heart, I guess. So far, I'm enjoying writing her. She's freaking awesome. The Gent's Club scene, who catches Cuddy? Hee, wouldn't it be funny if it was Wilson? You'll see. I hope not to disappoint, but I'll tell you it's nothing big. Just a random encounter with someone from the hospital. And about the new ep (that I almost killed myself over because of the LONG wait) WOOfreakinHOO on House and the Bachelor Party. I don't know what'll happen, but I am freaking sure the whole wedding's on. Someone's gonna get a ball and chain, that's something I think WILL happen. We'll see. Should be awesome, hee. - - - and as for correcting my grammar, totally okay. It's what we do—get bothered by grammar. I swear, I'm trying to check my updates as much as possible, but it's just hard sometimes. Well, silly me, I don't have a beta, but I promise, I'll try checking my words sooner and better so there wont' be much mistakes, okay? I'll try harder. Thank you, you're not bitchy at all. I get like that sometimes too. - - - - about With a Little Help from My Friends - - I honestly don't know how to answer your question since I've never been high or around people who got eye. That was totally just a guess. Thank you for a reviewing!

**TO those who reviewed With a Little Help from My Friends:**

_Hi everyone, those who read my very first try at comedy. I really appreciated your reviews, they were more than I had initially expected—in fact, I expected you guys might not like it. Thank you so much, you made me so happy, all of you!_

**Random:**

**Ohmyfreakingod.** Did you guys see Lisa Edelstein's pictures from FHM? I mean, it's in French, but who gives a crap? The woman is gorgeous. She turned me gay for her. I'm her gay-bird. Seriously. I'm totally gay for her. I've never been into mags like FHM or those sexist magazines, but God, I was willing to break that for her. Did you see it? Lisabians, Lisa fans, you HAVE TO see it. Forty-freakin-two my ass. She doesn't look 42! I can only dream to look like that NOW and I'm not even past 20. Lisa is gorgeous.

Like, whoa.

_Note: I felt uber stupid for expecting you guys to return for the replies so I decided to send my replies via PM's for those who used their accounts. I don't want to look like some assy snob since after all, you guys and your reviews a lot. Thank you so much._

Much love, xoxOphelia

_I Kissed a Girl _by _Katy Perry_

**Note(after the repost): I edited some things, but don't worry, you didn't miss anything big.**


	22. Chapter 21: The Sweet Escape

How the Other Half Lived

"_What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."_

_-Gregory House_

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, _she _had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING. Supposedly, this is the first week of December.

**Author's Note**: What's not funny? A person working on in a radio station with no voice…Yup, I am officially mute. Not a sound is coming out of my mouth so…I don't have a job. The good part is summer is almost over so I'm not so bummed. I've been sick for about a week now, no voice, barking like a dog—coughed up one lung already and spiking fevers every now and then. My summer is not turning ideal.

I'm literally walking around with my very own mini-whiteboard for talking. It's not fun.

And I haven't updated, I am sorry to say, because our damned internet line got cut off for two weeks—I'm only getting on line now at home and couldn't post using public computers because I was too sick and I had migraines that almost made me want to shoot my head off literally.

BUT Of course, I did bite the bullet—with my parents waiting outside—and went to an internet café to watch "Under My Skin" and holy freaking crap…Tell me House and Cuddy FINALLY sealed the deal FOR REAL? If this turns out into some sick hallucination, I am going to be doing some SERIOUS bitching. (Don't say I didn't warn you, David!)

And…Ohmygod, who saw the promo for Both Sides Now? Holy shit. _**Why **__was Cuddy crying?_ What was up with that infrared picture? She was the one holding it right? (Evidence: the hand with the picture was holding a pen on the left hand, it was female and it just had to be her—and I am using the same evidences for that hand that seemingly threw a pill bottle)…this better not break my Huddy-heart.

And yes, let my mourning officially commence—won't be seeing House until September. Holy shit, this is going to be a GREAT DEPRESSION, it's not even funny.

_Anyway, I hope you guys are still interested. I've changed a few things here…next chapter will probably have Cuddy and Tim in New York, but you can bet your tush House and Cuddy are going to have a moment before she leaves._

_I love you guys, I hope you'll forgive me for my absence. And now…I give you, 21 (ah, I remember Ridiculously Old Fraud fondly…he was cool)._

Chapter Twenty-One: The Sweet Escape

House sat slumped in his seat, his oversized tennis ball pressed to his forehead by his long elegant fingers of his right hand while the other gripped the handle on his seat. At the strike of five, he was already making his way out of his office, intending on dragging Wilson to the nearest bar for a drink or ten when Kutner came sliding in, the test results in hand and a new symptom, crossing out the initial diagnosis.

The new symptom had thrown him off and now he was staring at the white board outside his main office, with the new symptoms written in bold black letters, as if taunting him.

_Paranoia_

_Hyperthermia_

Both symptoms immediately crossed out Wolfram's Disease which now meant they were once again back to zero. He had assigned Thirteen and Taub to keep the patient's temperature down before her brain melted, giving him more time to diagnose. He was running out of time and even with Foreman and Kutner in the room, they were going nowhere.

It was past midnight now and he as running out of both time and patience.

"Give me anything," House muttered. "Give me some stupid idea I can spin gold from."

"We've crossed out the possible symptoms," Foreman said.

"No, _**we**_have crossed out possible symptoms," House snarked. "_**You**_were out playing in your little lab curing your girlfriend's disease!" He scowled. "Now come up with something before I decide to fire you for being useless!"

"She's not eating," Kutner said, standing up from his seat in the conference room. "She's not eating…"

"And? Wanna shove some happy down her throat?" House glared.

Kutner shook his head, "What if not eating is a symptom?"

House rolled his eyes, "Loss of appetite ring a bell to you?"

"Yes," Kutner said. "But…"

House tossed his ball aside. "This is stupid."

"Where are you going?" Foreman asked, annoyed. "We need to diagnose…"

"No, _**I**_need to diagnose," House said haughtily. "So _**I'm**_going to see _**my**_ patient, something _**you**_haven't done since this case started so way to go, super doctor. Why don't you go to the land of false hope and kill _**your**_ patients? I'm sure your girlfriend would just _**love**_ that."

Foreman scowled, "You let me do this, you allowed…"

"Yes, but I didn't expect it was going to turn you useless," House said over his shoulder as Kutner followed him out. "At least _**my**_ patient has more chances of living."

Hobbling through the halls, House growled under his breath as he felt his muscles begin to ache and protest, screaming for a narcotic release. Blindly, he reached into his pocket for his bottle, snapping it expertly open in one hand and bringing the brim to his lips, sucking out three in one breath. That should give him a few more hours.

Pushing the doors open, House slipped into the room to find Taub and Thirteen with the patient who was covered in cooling blankets and ice packs, shivering. A curly dark haired man he didn't know stood next to her and House pegged him as her boyfriend.

"She's hot," House said simply.

"This is Dr. House," Thirteen said dryly. "He's your attending, he's pleased to meet you."

"Yeah," House agreed. "Cause she's hot—and by hot, I mean I like what I see." He shrugged. "The whole temperature thing has nothing to do with it—well, not in non-medical stuff anyway."

"This is Mariana Dune," Taub presented, giving House a look. "And her _boyfriend_ Aaron Larson."

"Good to meet you, Dr. House," the man said, extending a hand to House. "I've heard great things about you."

"Yeah," House said, shrugging, ignoring the extended hand and paying attention to Taub more. "And you didn't have to bother with the names, I wouldn't have remembered anyway."

Aaron stared at him a moment before taking a seat next to Mariana.

"So, cool huh?" House said conversationally.

"Y-yeah," she stammered, shivering. "How long-do-do I have t-to do this?"

"Until your body stops trying to melt your brain," he said simply before turning to his team. "Any changes?"

"Not much," Taub said. "But she's not getting worst so the ice bath isn't necessary for now."

"Ice bath?" Aaron asked.

Thirteen nodded, "If her temperature spikes any higher, we will have to give her an ice bath. Hopefully it'll lower her body temperature and give us more time to figure out what's wrong with her."

"Can't-can't you just give her something?" Aaron asked, taking his girlfriend's hand in his. "I mean, she's already going through this artic ice bed thing, an ice bath is just…"

House rolled his eyes, "Do you want your girlfriend to die so you won't have to break up with her?"

"No," Aaron said, eyes wide. "Why would you—"

"Cause if her temperature gets any higher and you _don't _want us to get her in a tub full of ice water then she's going to die," House said as if it was obvious. "So, you wanna tell her, or should I, hombre?"

Aaron shook his head, "This is crazy."

"Yeah, I know," House rolled his eyes. "Have any of you been out of the country?"

"No," the couple said at the same time.

"Have any of your friends been out of the country."

"I don't think so," Mariana said, shivering.

House turned to the boyfriend, "And you don't have friends, right?"

"I do," Aaron said. "We have the same friends and no, none of them have been anywhere."

"House, what are you doing?" Taub asked. "We already took a _detailed _history. There wasn't much to get considering she was adopted."

"Well, sometimes, _doctors _miss something like," he pretended to look thoughtful. "Like the patient may be lying and all that, so they miss something crucial that would eventually lead to the patient's death because their detailed history _wasn't _so detailed."

"We're not lying."

"I know," House muttered. "But I'm talking in general here. You two might just be the exception."

The sarcasm wasn't hard to miss.

Aaron shook his head. "I don't understand what's happening here. You're her doctor, but this is the first time you've _ever _been to see her and now that you're _here_, you don't do anything."

"I'm doing something," House said, shrugging. "I'm trying to catch what my team missed, but if you really want me around your girlfriend, hey, I'm all for it." He smirked. "I like to watch."

"This is a joke, right?" Aaron said, standing up and turning to Thirteen. "You can't seriously be saying _this _piece of crap is Mar's doctor."

"Baby," Mariana said, stifling the chattering of her teeth. "It's-it's okay. Shh…"

House rolled his eyes, "And you say _I'm _the one _not _doing anything…I think that has to be better than doing everything wrong."

"What?" Aaron glared at him. There was no love lost between visitor and doctor.

"At least I'm not failing miserably to be boyfriend of the year," House said simply. "You're here," he pointed his cane at the blonde and blue eyed man, five or so inches shorter than him. "_Desperately _trying to be there for your sick and possibly dying tiny dancer when all you're doing is adding more crap on her plate therefore, not at all helping with her condition."

"What? That's not true, I've been here for her…"

"House."

"Yeah, but looks like you're failing the comfort department," House taunted, ignoring the mighty Taub who was once again deluding himself into thinking he could control his boss. "You're supposed to be here, taking her mind off the ice cold blanket wrapped around her and yet she's the one trying to placate you because you're attacking her doctor."

"I-I-…" Aaron stammered.

"Yeah, I'm good," House said then turned to his team. "Page me if she gets worst."

"Where are you going?" Taub asked, skeptical as always.

"I'm going to get some sleep," he muttered as he left the room. "If I want to see a quivering, shaking body, this isn't the show I'd pick. Nighty-night, darlings."

Lumbering out of the room, House left his team and his patient. He wasn't going home, no, but he was going to get some sleep. There wasn't much point in bothering with watching the patient shiver. He was tired, plain and simple. He was tempted to leave and slip into the nearest bar with racks full of alcoholic drinks, but he couldn't, not while he still had a patient.

Slipping into his office, he grabbed his coat. He needed sleep and usually, his office would have worked, but as Cuddy had mentioned a few weeks prior—the walls weren't sound proof which meant that once his team decided to come back, there were going to be some chattering and talking. He didn't want or need that.

House just needed a place to sleep.

-o0o-

Watching their department head walk off, Taub placed the patient's chart in Thirteen's hand as his phone began to ring. Glancing at it he looked at her then at Kutner, bypassing Foreman. "I need to go and take this."

"Who is it?" Kutner asked curiously.

"It's my wife," he said before slipping out.

Making sure he wasn't followed he placed the phone to his ear. "Hey."

"_Can you escape or what?"_

He smirked, "My boss just slipped out, I don't see a reason why I can't."

"_Great. What about your wife?"_

"She's home, she's going to be fine," Taub said. "I already told her we've got a patient. She gets the doctor's life, especially mine."

"_Yeah, your boss is something, I know."_

"Yeah," Taub muttered. "So…what do you say?"

"_Meet you there."_

"Great," he grinned but quickly wiped the look off his face as he heard the doors to the patient's room slide open. "Listen, I'll get back to you, okay? I'll see you later."

"_Great, don't be late."_

"Yes," Taub nodded and waited for the phone to click, ending the connection before speaking again. "You rest, hun, we're gonna take a while…okay, love you too. Bye."

He let his phone slide close and slipped it back into his pocket, turning just in time to see Thirteen and Foreman. "Hey, what's up?"

"Her temperature dropped, the ice packs are working," Thirteen informed him. "Is your wife okay? It's pretty late for her to be awake…"

"She's feeling a little sick," Taub said swiftly. "I told her to call me if she felt worst."

"Oh," Thirteen said. "How bad?"

"She's presenting some flu like symptoms," Taub tried to sound nonchalant. "It's the cold."

Thirteen glanced at Foreman, "Maybe you should get home to her, we can take the shift tonight. Your wife needs you."

"Yeah," Thirteen said, smiling a little. "House slipped out, you can too if your wife needs you."

Taub looked thankful. "Really?"

"Yeah," Thirteen smiled. "Besides, it'll annoy House so you should definitely go."

Taub smiled, "Thanks."

Foreman nodded, "Yeah. Just go."

Waving slightly, Taub turned away from the couple. He easily shook off the little remorse he felt about bailing out on the job and basically lying to their faces. They would never know, they would deal with it fine and the patient was okay. There was no reason to stay, not really.

The slight guilt he felt about taking advantage of his colleagues' sympathy and care were easily swept under the carpet—what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them and this was something he had to do, they would understand.

This was really…important.

But that doesn't mean he wasn't aware of the fact that he was probably just an ass like House.

Just like the guilt, he shook that one off too.

-o0o-

"I think it's time."

Cuddy ignored Tim as she stood in the middle of an elegantly designed Louis XIV inspired room and had she been kidnapped and thrown into the room unconscious, she wouldn't have guessed that beyond the crimson red double doors she'd just been escorted into was a full-fledged gentlemen's club complete with dimmed lights, catwalks, exposed flesh and poles.

The Prestige was a new club opened at the heart of Princeton, New Jersey where the rich and sophisticated businessmen entertained and _got _entertained by elegantly and erotically dressed women. The club was a more sophisticated version strip club, hence the classier label 'gentlemen's club'. Very high society and definitely costing a pretty penny, that much was clear.

Cuddy had heard of the place, of course, through some of her visiting male donors from other cities and from bigger companies that wanted some entertainment during their stay in the town. She'd heard of the place, but never gone. The hospital was her playing field and the donors understood that well enough not to _make _her join them.

After all, she was in the business of healing and helping, not entertaining them beyond the walls of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She was only glad they respected her that much. The leering and the lingering touches here and there during tours and conversations were fine to brush off, but bringing her in places like The Prestige was simply out of the question and an outright sign of disrespect to her both as a professional and a woman.

If they had tried, Cuddy herself would have asked them to shove their donations down their throat and get screwed because she wasn't interested.

She was thankful nothing of the sort has yet to happen for her to take such…damning measures.

But if only they saw her now…Cuddy was sure she could possibly kill Tim then.

"Time for what?" she asked, turning to Tim, realizing ignoring her might do more damage than it could prevent.

"I scheduled some…activities with the ladies earlier," Tim coyly, draping herself onto a Louis XIV chaise lounge, crooking a finger at Tatiana—a ridiculous name though Cuddy didn't bother to comment.

Seemingly from nowhere, music played with sounds of sensual and light tones, thoroughly seductive and definitely erotic in a way that would have been perfect background music while writhing in soft waves of ecstasy.

Cuddy swayed to the music, drink in hand, dancing with the rented gorgeous redhead in patent leather high heels with straps that zigzagged up to her calves, silk and lace emerald green bustier that matched her eyes and fishnet stockings complete with garter belt that almost matched the ones Tim had chosen for her that morning.

Despite her Tim and Partypants past, she could honestly admit she had _never _had a lesbian experience. She wasn't a prude—House would laugh his bad leg off if someone said she was—but she wasn't as adventurous as Tim.

She knew her insane best friend already had her fair share of lesbian experiences and Cuddy never really dove into the details. She wasn't interested, as far as women were concerned. She knew how to admire women, of course, she could spot beauty and elegance, but never felt the need to _touch _or _taste_ so she stood there, swaying and occasionally outright dancing with the redhead without actually touching her erotically while Tim lapped up her lap dance.

Cuddy looked her paid partner over, with her red hair and green eyes and mused she was beautiful and somewhat gorgeous with her legs and china white complexion. Supposed if Cuddy was a lesbian, she would have gone for her, but apart from appreciating beauty, that was about it. She felt no sexual attraction, no pull or want to touch her, nothing.

She just liked men too much to bat for the other team.

"I already told you, I am not having sex with anyone—women included," Cuddy said, hands on her hips then turned to the redhead. "No offense—it's nothing personal."

"For shit's sake, Lee," Tim said from her position on the chaise where Tatiana was now giving her a very physical lap dance. "Just sit back and enjoy. You don't have to fuck or touch—hell, talk to keep dancing. Just have fun." She turned to the lone, untouched woman, "Darling, why don't you get my friend another drink? She's pretty wound tight—she used to be a whore-bitch, but she's gone all grown-up on me, I'm hoping for a resurrection."

The woman smiled and headed for the fully-stocked bar, seemingly fine with being a bartender instead of entertainment. Cuddy watched her, readily admitting to herself that even with walking, teetering on four-inch-high heels, the woman was sensual and graceful without meaning to.

A part of her wondered if she had something in her brain or if she really was just _this_—entertainment and body.

She's spent the few hours in the elegant room dancing, swaying and letting go a little. They were the only ones there, they had privacy and Cuddy could act like a whore if she wanted to.

"What's her name, love?" Tim asked Tatiana, pulling the woman on her lap, letting her straddle her thighs, obviously taking advantage of the freedom to see and observe her research subject.

"Scarlet," Tatiana breathed, leaning down to place a kiss on her neck. "Named for her hair…she's quite famous around here with the patrons."

Tim looked the woman over, "I can see why."

"Your friend should take to her, everyone does," Tatiana whispered with a seductive smile. "But I'm sure you won't have anything to worry about…"

Tim laughed, deep in her throat. "Oh, darling, that would be something, but I'll let you in on a secret…" she smiled over at Cuddy who was watching and listening still. "We're not gay."

Tatiana quirked an eyebrow at Cuddy who nodded at her, confirming that she was indeed not gay. "I believe her, but you…" she bent low, breathing against her lips. "You feel different to me."

"I feel different to everyone," Tim replied, slipping her hands around her waist. "Excuse me."

Gracefully, Tim got up, plopping the scantily clad woman on the chaise and drifted over to Cuddy. She smiled, "Darling, you're supposed to be having fun."

"I was—I am," Cuddy replied. "And I think I've seen enough girl-on-girl action for one night. Time to go, I think, before I get too drunk to drive…"

"No," Tim said, gripping her arms. "Sweetie, come on. Scarlet," she motioned to the woman bring them drinks. "Is _not _a novice. She's apparently quite famous and…" she smiled, "She might just convert you."

"I don't think so," Cuddy muttered. "She's gorgeous, but that's pretty much it. You see, I'm a _big_ fan of, ahem, dicks."

Tim grinned, "You like dicks and God, to hear you say _dick_ already made this night worth it. When was the last time you said dick anyway? Even I can't remember."

"Which isn't such a bad sign," Cuddy said with a grin. "Can you even remember last week?"

Tim thought for a moment, "No, not really."

"See?" Cuddy chuckled. "You forgetting is really not a big deal. Don't worry, we're used to it."

"Miss?" Scarlet was back with her drink.

Cuddy took the drink, "Thank you…Scarlet. You can call me—"

"Lee," Tim inserted. "You can call her Lee and I'm Tim—and no, she's not gay and I've hired _you_ to at least turn her for the night, you're reputation sounds…promising."

Scarlet smiled, "Very well then,"

Tim smiled, "Excellent. Now…ladies, like I said, I think it's time to start tonight's main event?"

Cuddy watched Tim blow the woman a kiss before skipping off back to her awaiting hostess. She sipped her drink, nervously. She wasn't gay, never had the tendency to become one. It was true, she was a very big _and _loyal fan of the male anatomy.

What could this Scarlet woman do to her?

"Are you ready?" Scarlet asked, taking her hand and Cuddy noted she had quite long nails, of course, in a deep shade of red like blood. "Lee?"

"For what?" Cuddy asked, curious. "Whatever my friend planned—she never shared with me so…what's going on?"

Scarlet smiled, "Your friend scheduled an interesting activity for tonight."

Cuddy felt her heartbeat take a faster pace. What the hell was Tim on to now? She'd been on with Tim's plans in the past and most of them usually involved a lot of embarrassment and, on special occasions, a free ticket to the police department. Tim always liked pushing boundaries and in the past, Cuddy had been foolish enough to join her, but not now.

She was a doctor—a Dean of Medicine and Chief Administrator of one of the best hospitals in the East Coast, there was no way she was risking that and her reputation for one night of drunken debauchery in an upscale strip club no matter how much they promised privacy.

"What type of activity exactly?" she asked warily.

Scarlet smiled and waved a graceful hand, "That."

Skeptical, Cuddy turned to see that the heavy red drapes at the corner of the room had been pulled aside to reveal a small stage. Tatiana stood in the middle on one foot, the other curled around what looked like a silver pole.

The lights dimmed darker and the stage lit up, like a mini version of the stage on the main floor. Tatiana, her lithe body illuminated by the light, placed both hands around the pole and swung her body around then twisted until her high heels were up high in the air and her head at the bottom, her hair spread around the floor, legs curled around to hold on to the pole to complete her pose.

Tim got up the stage, smiling proudly. "My darling Lee-la," she cooed, extending her arms out to Cuddy who stood gaping at the woman who was still suspended upside down by her body. "This is my gift to you…"

"What?" Cuddy asked, staring at Tatiana still. "A hemorrhaged exotic dancer?"

Tim shook her head, chuckling. "No, no, love. This," she motioned to Tatiana who immediately unhooked her legs and let her body fold to the side until she flipped and landed on her feet, one hand still wrapped around the pole, the other high in the air proudly. "Is my gift—a lesson."

"Huh?"

"A lesson," Scarlet said, wrapping a hand around Cuddy's waist casually. "On stripping and dancing...around a pole—basically, we're going to teach you how to be us."

"What?" Cuddy exclaimed, turning to the redhead. "Are you serious?"

"See? She's very excited," Tim said cheerily. "Now let's—"

"No, no, no, no and no!" Cuddy exclaimed, waving her arms around. "I am _not_ stripping **or **wrapping myself around a _pole_. No way and I would rather wrap my car around a street lamp, Tim, are you out of your mind?"

"Yes, but you already know that," Tim said casually. "Sweetie, it's just a lesson—you know, be sexier and all that. Burlesque and stripping is the perfect mix, my love, it's absolutely fantastic. It's quite famous now—it's like yoga only with better costumes and, of course, a pole."

"I _like _my yoga so no, thank you, I'm perfectly fine," Cuddy huffed. "Where's my purse? I am getting out of here."

"First off," Tim said, hopping off the stage. "I drove here, remember? And you've tossed back a few drinks so no, you are not driving. Second, I paid for this shindig already, no way in hell I'm wasting this and third," she grabbed Cuddy's arm. "You are fucking moving that ass tonight whether you like it or not."

"Or what?" Cuddy hissed. "This is insane, Tim, I am going home, I need to call a cab. For god's sake, I am seeing my brother tomorrow!"

"Exactly," Tim growled. "_Exactly_, you are seeing your brother tomorrow—your _dying _brother. You think you'll be able to sleep tonight? You're going to lie in bed, all night, thinking about this and everything else. Trust me," she was gentler now. "You need this."

Cuddy looked around the room, entranced again by how everything seemed like they were in such a different world. She had to be grateful to Tim, for doing this, knowing this was her way of distracting her and taking her mind of what was coming. This was her way of making what would have been a night of staring at the ceiling more eventful and like pressing fast forward since so far, the night had gone completely like a blur in The Prestige.

"Darling," Tim said, placing her hands on her shoulders. "You know there's only one way this situation can end—and it's gonna be with me possibly with my foot on your neck." A dangerous smile appeared on her face, "Or, I'm sure, they have some ropes around here, right ladies?"

"Definitely," Tatiana said, hanging her arms around Tim, seemingly glad she thought she had the dominant one between them. "Some customers here have…special needs."

Cuddy stared at the two women in front of her, weighing her options until she decided she wasn't about to test that claim. With Tim and a place like The Prestige, God only knew what went on in there and she wasn't about to dare them to make prove to her what they had and didn't have because she was sure, somewhere there actually were ropes, chains and possibly whips and maybe floggers around—things she knew Tim was _no_ stranger to.

Not that she knew Tim ever let someone hit her with anything because Cuddy was sure if there was anyone who had to hold a whip and do the hitting—_Tim _was going to be doing that.

The woman bowed to no one, just like she had taught Cuddy.

"I am not dancing," she forced out, hands on her hips, still wanting to take some sort of semblance of control in the entire thing.

Tatiana draped an arm around Tim's waist and Scarlet took her other side, pressing her body flush against the dark haired woman, who in a way was their boss for the night.

Tim stood, very much like a female version of Hugh Hefner with her very own non-bunnies, and smiled sweetly, "Whatever you say, darling."

-o0o-

Shrugging his coat off, House closed the door behind him followed by the cool click of the lock sliding in place. Looking around the darkened office, he decided choosing to stay the night here was one of his better ideas of the day. In the darkness, the room was calm, quiet and relaxed where the stresses the day usually brought in nowhere to be felt or seen. Everything was hidden in the shadows.

Just the way he liked it.

Tossing his coat on the armchair, he kicked off his shoes and tossed his beeper and phone onto the glass table with not much thought. Hobbling to the bookcase, he reached under the small drawer at the bottom, cursing under his breath as his thigh protested against the strain. Quickly, he pulled out the afghan he knew would be there as it always was.

Tucking the folded fabric against his body, he hobbled back to where he planned to rest for the night, sure now that he had everything he needed. Carefully, he eased himself onto the couch, letting his body soak up the comfort the soft cushions, letting his long legs extend out fully, kicking off his shoes and wriggling his toes inside his socks.

The length was perfect for him and for reasons more than the fact that he was full of himself, he thought the buyer simply chose this particular couch to accommodate _his _height as if aware one day he would be settling his tired body on it.

Laying his cane on the floor under him, he grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath his head, wondering just how probable it was that Lisa Cuddy did choose this particular couch with him in mind—or even better, with both of them in mind. The thing was big enough for two to sleep on.

Now that would have been interesting.

He smirked as he imagined her rolling her eyes at his presumptuousness, imagining that look on her face as she reminded him once again about the size of his ego. He could only guess what witty retort she would needle with him, sure that it would drip with sarcasm rivaling acid.

Grinning to himself, he made sure his bottle of pills stood next to his strewn mobile phone and beeper, almost sure that hours later he would be woken up by something inkling to a shrieking harpy which would require the little white pills' help to help his transition from sleep to full-on House-ass mode. He wanted to be ready once he'd been caught and found out.

Closing his eyes, he grinned again at the thought of being found out by the owner of the chic office, only just imagining her reactions knowing it could be a variety of things. Nonetheless, no matter how she reacted, he knew it was still going to be interesting.

As his mind gave signs that maybe, just this once, he wasn't going to be attacked by his nightly best friend named insomnia, he wondered why he never thought of doing this before.

With a contented sigh, Greg House let his eyes slip close, letting the warmth of the afghan envelope him in a warm embrace, he drifted in the darkened comfort of Lisa Cuddy's office.

He would wait for tomorrow, sleep was coming easily to him now.

-o0o-

"Chris!"

He looked up just in time to see his friend wave him over to a table full of women and some guys. Neil Zane, an old schoolmate, had invited him that night for some mingling and letting loose at a swanky new strip club at the city. He didn't remember the guy, but he was younger and like any other kid, he didn't really care about the younger ones behind him then.

But the fact that the guy was seemingly secured in a cushy job with a great business potential for him, Chris Taub really couldn't turn down this offer.

He was honest, especially with himself and the bitter truth was, Taub hated his life now. A few months back, he was a top-plastic surgeon rivaling the biggest names in New York with a beautiful salary and a good, comfortable marriage. His practice was in New Jersey complete with a rehab facility and a lot of women—from New York and other places—went to them because they were safely away from prying eyes. His practice worked for people who didn't want to be found out going under the knife.

Taub wasn't going to lie—he wanted that life back, wanted that salary, but after his stupidity and carelessness, there was no going back. Working for Greg House, while prestigious in name and profession, wasn't really doing much money-wise. Taub was older than the other fellows, he didn't need the credits, he was fine on his own.

He didn't need Greg House's name on his resume.

What he needed was money.

And Neil Zane was looking like a good ticket for that.

So here he was, standing in a strip club after just weeks of confessing and promising his wife the things he had done and never wanted to do again. Rachel was just starting to understand, a gracious move while other women would have tossed his ass out, and yet here he was.

If she found out, Taub knew it was going to be ugly.

But he was doing this more for her—really—at the beginning, he assured her and eased her a good life with the promises of his budding career. This slump in the financial aspect of their lives was something she did not bargain for, something she never signed up for despite their marriage vows with the "for richer, for poorer" aspect. Taub knew his wife deserved the best, deserved the life she had gotten used to living. He owed her that much and more, now more than ever.

He just needed a little help, a little work of miracles.

And that was where Neil Zane, the CEO, comes in.

"Glad you made it!" Neil said, clapping him on the back. "Ladies and gents, this is my friend, Dr. Chris Taub. He's great! He fixed this problem I had I told you guys about."

The three guys with the drinks and women wrapped around them raised their drinks high and cheered him. Introductions were made and Taub lost interest when he found out they were nobodies. He was seated next to Neil and the night was only starting.

Neil introduced him to a raven haired beauty, Svetlana, and what was a guy supposed to do? He grabbed the drink he was offered and gave in to the toasts.

The party was just beginning.

-o0o-

"Swing your leg there…"

Tim squealed with glee, tossing back a shot of tequila as she watched Lisa sigh loudly once more for what Tim was sure was the millionth time. She watched as Lisa stood perched on the top of the stage holding the silver pole with the two _professionals_, instructing her on what to do. There was a look of absolute _murder_ on her face as she visibly clutched the pole with suppressed rage.

Of course, the two women, Tatiana and Scarlet were aware of Lisa's…reluctance to participate but Tim had put her "excellent" abilities in Public Relations and used them on Lisa.

Tim had threatened some very bad things looming in Lisa's future that might or might _not _involve some incriminating and downright embarrassing photos from their wilder days. Lisa had fought tooth and nail, literally kicking and screaming but seeing as she stood there on stage being told where to put her leg, she had quite so obviously lost.

They both knew well enough Tim was not one to back down on her promises _and _threats.

The scatterbrained lawyer-slash-producer-slash-everything-else was sure the doctor would prefer one night of embarrassment in a confined room than to have whatever pictures stored see the light of day knowing there were some memorable ones when Tim was on her 'photographer' phase where she had used Lisa as her test mannequin for some staged shots.

And their non-staged pictures didn't have to be mentioned through Lisa's less-than-tamed years. Tim had kept the pictures, all of them and she wasn't afraid to use…some of them.

Some pictures really were just meant to burn…in due time.

Scarlet chuckled, "Lisa, just put your leg there." She motioned with her hand, bending at the waist to touch her "student's" leg only to have her jump back.

Tim suppressed another squeal and tossed back another shot.

Lisa let out a growl, "I know where to put my leg! I've seen you do about five times already! I am not an idiot—I finished medical school, for god's sakes. The problem isn't me! It's my damned skirt and I am _not _about to strip for you right here!"

"Well, we have a dressing room out back…" Tatiana said, obviously the more playful one in the group, giggling as the irate woman gave her a glare while the redhead shook her head slightly.

"Well maybe we can…" Scarlet was saying when Tim rolled her eyes and got to her feet, pulling her body off the very comfortable chaise lounge she was seriously thinking about buying off from the joint. She wasn't much for antique but the damned thing was too comfortable to leave behind for some sex-deprived CEO-slash-deviants to lie their sweat ridden body on.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Tim growled as she got on stage, swinging one boot up and pulling the rest of her body and lumbered to where Lisa stood, dropping to her knees and pulling out to view the knife she'd been using for the lemons on her table. "It's fucking simple," she hissed before grabbing the edges of Lisa's skirt.

A loud ripping noise resounded over the music but it was completely covered by Tatiana's laughter and Lisa's loud gasp.

"Tim! What the hell?" Lisa cried, standing shocked as now she stood with her skirt ripped right at the middle a lot of inches past her mid-thighs.

Tim smiled and got up, waving her knife. "I'm always prepared."

"Goddamn it," Lisa growled, bending to examine her skirt. "This was the Gucci we bought five weeks ago! This isn't funny, Tim!"

"Oh, buzz off," Tim said, waving the knife as she hopped off the stage. "I'll pay for it with a better one—remember that one we saw from Armani? That would look gorgeous on you."

But apparently, there was no easy way to appease the doctor as she too jumped off the stage, landing steadily in her high heels. "That's **it**, I have had it!"

"What now?" Tim asked, draping herself back onto the couch.

"This is stupid, insane and goddamned pointless!" Lisa screamed, powering past Tim and heading for her purse on the bar. "I have put up with way too much in one night, Artemis, I am _done_, do you hear me? I'm going home!"

Tim rolled her eyes. "Lisa, come on. Stay."

"No, this is fucked up," Lisa wasn't holding back on her anger now. "This is stupid! My brother is dying, my hospital is being dominated by a crippled-man-whore, you're here driving me insane instead of helping me—goddamn this!"

Tim turned just as Lisa slipped out the doors, slamming them open with a dramatic flair that only she could pull. She sighed before getting up, tossing the knife onto the small table next to the chaise where her bottle of tequila and shot glasses sat.

"Are we…done?" Tatiana asked, standing by the stage with Scarlet, looking curious.

"No," Tim said, heading for the doors. "Wait here, we're not done yet, ladies and while you're at it, please pick me something nice to listen to while my friend dances too? Thanks!"

Practically skipping out the room, slipped out, weaving through the red and gold halls where a few patrons were passing too, and presumably heading for their own private rooms as well. Some men eyed her, but she ignored them and went with her search.

Lisa always found it easier to throw a tantrum around her and Tim was used to it. She was sure there was no way Lisa was really going to head home just for a skirt, but she couldn't be so sure. Then again, the thought of Lisa willingly getting into a cab with a torn skirt was something hard to picture—she was always the careful one.

But then again, his was New Jersey.

Tim cursed under her breath and hurried her steps, only to bump into another body. "Shit."

"I'm sorry," she looked up to see a calmer Lisa.

"Hi honey," Tim said with a smile. "Done with your little temper tantrum?"

Lisa gave her a look that said she was very far from amused.

"Come on, loosen the fuck up," Tim said, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "You remember, don't you? Crashing Claire Tightass's birthday, dancing on the bars, setting the drinks on fire, making Frederick Morrison stand outside the maze in his underwear for your father to find…remember those? Come on, Lee, loosen up…"

"A drunk bald guy just tried to grope me," Lisa said, frowning. "Because he thought I was one of the 'role-players', you know, slutty secretary number five?"

Tim swallowed her laughter until her cheeks pinked and Lisa, to her surprise, cracked a small smile, "You can laugh."

A full cackle escaped her lips, attracting the attention of some passing patrons and passing women. Lisa stood there, in her torn skirt, waiting for her to finish.

"I knew," Tim choked out through her giggles. "I knew, even back when we were kids, when I first saw you, _you_ were worth it." She laughed louder. "And this proved me right…Oh god, Lee-la, this shit only ever happens to you…"

"I am glad you find my humiliation funny," Lisa said dryly. "Some friend you are…"

Tim giggled and pulled her back down the hall, back to their room. "Let's escape your new boy-toy for now, eh? What did I tell you? Always leave them wanting more. Now…" Tim choked on a laugh. "Tell me, my little hooker, where exactly did old bare-head land?"

Lisa scowled, "My ass." She sighed. "I really don't get people's obsession with my butt. I don't get it—you and House are always talking about it, people stare…ugh. It's stupid. It's just flesh and fat—"

Tim scowled, "Yes, honey, I know you are very smart, but please, keep the details to yourself. I never cared for the word 'fat' when it comes to body parts…"

"Are you going eating disorder on me?" Lisa asked just as they reached the doors.

"No," Tim spat, frowning. "If I was, do you think I'd be downing shots of tequila? I heard those stuff have serious calories on them…"

Lisa laughed, "Really? Then I need a drink."

The two women on stage stood waiting and Tatiana smiled at the return of her student. "You're back! Should we continue?"

Lisa headed for Tim's little perch and grabbed the bottle, putting it to her lips and chugging a large sip easily before setting the bottle down, the contents considerably lesser than before she'd gotten to it. It wasn't a secret that Lisa, tiny Lisa, could drink a sailor under the table any day.

In a very unladylike way, the woman with the ripped skirt wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, "You bet your sweet as we should."

Tim plopped herself back on the couch, giddy once more now that her plan was back on track. Lisa stood, a little more intoxicated now, listening to Scarlet's instructions and she easily slid her leg around the pole, her thigh showing itself as it peeked from under the torn edges of the split in her skirt, showing off her expensive garters.

Tim sat back, "Very fucking hot." She smiled. "I love America."

Calling for another bottle, this time scotch, Tim watched the show in front of her, being every inch the pervert she cast herself as, watching as her best friend-slash-sister, take points from the two strippers. She motioned for the waitress to put the bottle of expensive scotch enticingly close to where the three women stood, knowing one of them would not be able to resist.

She didn't give a damn about the lessons.

It was the outcome Tim wanted to see.

-o0o-

"So, are you married?" Svetlana asked, eyeing the ring around the doctor's finger.

"Uh, yes," Taub said, smiling slightly as he clutched his beer. She was sitting impossibly close to him, making him feel a little uncomfortable. "We've been married for a long time."

"Oh," she smiled, putting her arm around his shoulder. "You're just here because of Neil?"

Taub nodded, "Yeah, we went to high school together."

Svetlana chuckled, "He likes bringing people here, mostly high school friends."

Taub nodded, "Good then…uh, do you always, uh, do you…"

She laughed, "Depends when I'm here or not, otherwise, Neil gets the other girls."

"Oh," Taub nodded.

"So, you're a doctor?" she asked.

"Yes, plastic surgeon," he said, nodding slightly as he took a sip of his beer. "I work at PPTH."

She nodded slightly, "Ah, I know someone from there…"

"Really? Anyone I know?" this could be interesting.

"Nobody, just a nurse," she shrugged. "So is your wife okay with you being here with Neil?"

He shrugged, "Probably not, but I'm just here for the drinks."

"Hey, Chris," Neil called, getting up with a blonde wrapped in one arm. "We're heading to the Champagne Suite. You're coming?"

Taub drained his beer, "Of course."

"Very cool," Neil clapped his hands, motioning for the other guys to come with him. "Jon!" he called an Italian looking man sitting at the bar. "We're taking the Suite now."

The Italian nodded, "Go ahead, Mr. Zane. Everything's ready, as always…"

"As always?" Taub echoed. "How often are you here?"

Neil shrugged, "When work gets under my skin. They know me."

The doctor nodded and followed the entourage as they headed down a red and gold hall. Taub marveled at the elegance of the place, despite the business it was promoting. Of course, it wasn't a brothel or a bordello, but selling skin on pay-per-view was still part of the shady business. Then again, he would be a hypocrite since he had Svetlana hanging on to his arm.

She was taller than him, but he didn't mind. She was hot anyway and she seemed good for conversations. He wasn't planning on making the same mistakes tonight or ever again, as much as possible.

"So where are we?" Taub asked carefully, looking at the closed doors.

"We're at the…" Svetlana looked around. "Private rooms. Some people like private shows. We're known for our privacy. Over there," she motioned to a pair of double doors. "Is the Louis Suite, I think Neil tried to grab it, but Jon said another patron already reserved it for the night. It's our best room. It's really quite beautiful."

Taub nodded, "So what is the Champagne Suite?"

Svetlana smiled, "Basically, a room full of champagne, expensive ones, with over-priced furniture and an excellent stage. We're putting on a show for you…"

Taub smiled. "Cool."

-o0o-

"Oh my god, I can't believe I did that!"

Tim watched, curious now and wondered if getting Lisa that bottle of scotch was a good idea seeing as the good doctor was now doing a series of spins around the pole and actually dirty dancing with the two other women.

Her hair was a mess, skirt was just a little more ripped, revealing her garter on her left thigh, she was laughing at nothing and was severely out of it. Basically, the good doctor was wasted.

"So I do this…" Lisa said, holding on to the pole with both hands and slowly sliding down, looking over her shoulder at Scarlet who was watching her with her head cocked to the side. Lisa let her butt jut out as she slid lower, arching her back as she went.

"She's pretty hot," Tatiana mused, sitting on the chaise, watching as well. "And she's fucked up drunk, but she hasn't fallen yet. What does she do for a living?"

"She's a doctor," Tim snorted. "A damned good one with a tightass job schedule. This is the first time she's acted like that in years."

Tatiana giggled, "And to think she was so pissed off…"

"She usually is when I push her into things," Tim shrugged. "But she has fun so it's good."

They both watched as Lisa, looking at Scarlet with eyes full of lust, slowly slid her body back up then turned, leaning on the pole, hands above her head, gripping it. She bit her bottom lip, eyes still on her current teacher, and let her left hand trail down into her hair to her shoulder then to her breast. Scarlet smiled slightly as she swung her leg back, hooking it around the pole then let her hand travel down lower and lower until it reached her exposed thigh.

"How am I doing?" Lisa asked in a slight slur that actually added a more throaty lilt to her voice, making her sound even more seductive than she was trying to be.

"Perfect," Scarlet said. "You're a fast learner."

Lisa smiled, "Thanks."

"You wanna take a break?" Scarlet asked, motioning to Tim and Tatiana.

"How come she doesn't dance?" Lisa asked, still very much wrapped around the pole, hand still on her exposed thigh, idly playing with the edge of her garter.

"Cause I am hot, darling," Tim said from her place. "And this is just for you, for all those donors you're trying to reel in. A trip here and a private show should have them on their knees."

Lisa laughed, a full, boisterous, bordering on obnoxious laughter as she untangled herself from the pole, her shirt a little more unbuttoned, looking very much a sex kitten.

"Come on, Lolita," Tim said, patting the seat next to her.

The inebriated doctor plopped herself down on the chaise, leaning her back on the other end and tossing her sleek legs onto Tim's laugh, giggling to herself. "If I was gay, I'd go for Scarlet."

Tim glanced at the redhead who lounged by the bar, sipping her drink while watching Lisa over the rim of her glass. "Hm, with all the eye sex going on, I'd say your eyes have turned seriously gay now."

"Can I help it if she's hot?" Lisa said brattily. "Besides, you signed me up and you had that bottle delivered to me…"

"I made you dance, but I didn't shove the drink down your throat," Tim pointed out. It was always interesting how many moods Lisa presented when she was drunk. At times, she was affectionate, others, she was chatty, sometimes honest and other times just plain bitchy.

Tim always marveled and bitched about how even when drunk off her ass, the woman could still hold an argument, however slurred by her thickening foamed up tongue from the alcohol.

"Scarlet was hot," Lisa said again with a grin. "I love her hair."

"Yes, I know," Tim nodded then touched her raven black hair. "You think I should go back to red?"

Lisa smiled and bent forward, grabbing a lock of her hair, "Yes, you look great in red—it would bring out your eyes. I like your eyes."

"You like a lot of things," Tim said, grabbing her hand away from her hair and placing it on the owner's lap. Seems affectionate Lisa was willing to come out too.

"I like Greg's eyes too," Lisa sighed dreamily as she plopped herself back onto her end of the lounge. "Did you see how blue they are? So…blue like-like…I don't know, like ice, I think only when they land on you—you don't feel cold at all and you feel the exact opposite…like liquid fire. God, his eyes are sexy. And so intense…"

Tim sighed, yes, this was it. Lisa was officially partially drunk. Chatty Lisa was always partially drunk—this was the honesty stage, which meant, her dark side—what Tim liked to call 'Tim-side'—had a big chance of emerging tonight.

The Tim-side was already showing signs of emerging—if she played her cars right.

Tim was more than happy and she was sure, tomorrow, normal-(and possibly hungover)-Lisa was not going to be anywhere near that emotion.

"He is so sexy," Lisa slurred slightly. "If he wasn't-wasn't…what's the word I'm lookin' for? Wasn't…uh, so, uh…shit. Ah! So freaking _misanthropic_, I'd do him…" she growled slightly. "But he's such an ass…but god, he was damned good in bed…"

Tim grinned to herself and motioned for Tatiana to start moving. She would let Lisa talk it out.

"He was _really _good, Tim, like…" she thought for a moment. "Like multi-orgasmic kind of good…" she squirmed in her seat. "But he's such a bastard…he's the reason I can't get laid. Stupid ass…" she whimpered. "He keeps ch-chasing men away from my bed…"

"Maybe _he_ wants to be in your bed," Tim heard herself say.

"Who the hell cares?" Lisa whined. "If he wants to do me, then do me…don't leave me so…frustrated and lonely like that…I need to get laid."

"Hear, hear," Tim raised her empty shot glass in a mock salute. "Acceptance is the first step to actual fucking after dry spells. You're on your way, sweetie."

"But I don't want just anyone…" Lisa said in almost a whisper. "I want…he's so hot."

Tim chuckled, "Lisa, if you want the gimp, fuck him—as in literally. Pin his crippled ass to the floor and have your way with him. He's a guy with a dick, he won't say no and scream rape."

"It's Greg House," Lisa said, frowning. "If he could accuse me of rape to get out of Clinic, he would. He's…an ass."

"With a fantastic ass," Tim said, grinning to herself.

Lisa moaned. "Oh, yeah…" Then she frowned, "Hey, you are _not _suppose to be talking about his ass…you're not even allowed to know it's fantastic."

Tim smirked, "Ah, jealous Lisa in the House…"

"Very funny," Lisa blubbered, swaying slightly. "But really, Tim…he's sexy."

"Yes, I know," Tim sighed, this was getting old. "How about that James Wilson?"

Lisa laughed, "Jimmy's okay…Jimmy is nice. Jimmy is…like Ellie. Worries too much for his own good…he's a good guy. He's nice."

"And nice doesn't work for the good girl Lisa who wants her very own bad boy."

"Exactly," Lisa nodded thoughtfully. Then, "Tim…What time is it?"

Tim checked her watch, "A little after two…"

The drunk sat up, looking suddenly sober and appeared to be out of her fantasies. "We should…go."

Tim sat up as well. "Right…"

Where the hell was Lisa's Tim-side? She was supposed to come out. Tim felt seriously cheated.

Lisa held her head, "Oh god…my head is spinning…"

"Are you gonna throw up?" Tim asked dutifully.

"No," Lisa said, closing her eyes. "But…but I wanna go home now."

Tim nodded. "Fine, I've got my lesbian erotica for tonight anyway. Hot show, Lee-la, show what your ass, breasts and hips can do to a pole and Greg House will want you to be going _his_ pole in a heartbeat."

Lisa's face contorted, "You're vulgar."

"And you're a semi-pro stripper!" Tim laughed. "Lisa Cuddy, MD also with a PhD in Sex Pole Kitten 101..."

"Shut up."

Tim laughed, "Come on." She looked around for the two women, "Ladies, we're calling it a night. Our little sex kitten wants her bed now."

-o0o-

At this point, Cuddy was sure she had definitely gone on the deep end now as Tim held her around the waist and the two strippers followed them out. Tim was happily chatting along with the other two while she struggled to keep her coat folded in front of her skirt, her purse hanging over her shoulder.

She was partially drunk, that she knew, but she knew she was more out of it before when she started talking about House. If it had been anyone else, she would have crawled under a rock and die, but at least, it was only Tim. Whatever thoughts and opinions she had of Greg House, Tim would keep to herself.

Tim had a knack for choosing things she should and shouldn't poke fun at.

"How are you feeling, babe?" Tim asked, jostling her slightly as she laid her head on her shoulder, feeling heavy.

"I'm drunk," she said in a whisper. "Partially…thanks to you and your bottle of scotch."

Tim chuckled, "You liked it enough to finish it alone."

"Yeah," Cuddy sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me tonight."

"Nothing's wrong with you," Tim said, shrugging. "You just had fun. God, you know how to work a pole…so hot."

"I'm not gay and you aren't either," she muttered. "Stop hitting on me."

Tim laughed, "One night with me and you're gonna be singing a different tune, sweet cheeks."

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy's heart stopped.

_Holy shit._

"Uh-oh…" Tim muttered, freezing them both on the spot.

Cuddy looked up to see House's fellow, Dr. Chris Taub, standing with a woman a few inches taller than him. She felt her face lose it's color and she could swear her heart had yet to start back up again. "D-Dr. Taub…"

She watched him take in her appearance and she hastily covered her front with her coat, her purse clattering to the floor. She was caught.

"Are-are you okay, Dr. Cuddy? You look…" he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable and he took a step away from the tall woman who was clearly with him.

"I'm fine, Dr. Taub," Cuddy said in her best administrative voice as possible. "I'm just…" she shook her head then realized it was a bad idea as her head began to spin. "Don't you have a case with Dr. House?"

"We went home for the night," he answered and even semi-drunk, Cuddy could pick up that he wasn't entirely being truthful. "I see your friend…Tim is with you. Hello."

"Hi, Bilbo," Tim said cheerfully. "Your boss and I decided to wind down for the night. This place is awesome, isn't it? Are you with some…friends?"

"No, I mean, yes," Taub stammered. "With a friend…"

"Bachelor party?" Tim teased, tightening her hold on Cuddy's waist. "Wish we knew, we could have totally crashed…"

Taub wiped a hand on his side. "Uh, not exactly…just a friend, you know…"

Cuddy sighed, "Right, uh, Dr. Taub, I…"

"Dr. Cuddy isn't feeling too well," Tim said, cutting her off. "I kind of goaded her into getting her drink on and it's kind of cold and slippery outside so…would you mind if you help us?"

"What?" Cuddy asked, suddenly standing up straight.

"Uh," Taub looked at Cuddy then Tim.

"Please?" Tim asked, smiling. "Lisa's not heavy, but I don't want to slip or anything…"

"Sure," Taub said, stammering slightly.

"Hey, Chris, what's up?" they saw a guy clap the doctor on the shoulder. "We've been looking for…whoa," he grinned when he saw Tim and Cuddy. "Hi, I'm Neil Zane of Jameson Pharmaceuticals."

Cuddy eyed the woman as he extended his hand to her and she shook it, weakly while Tim pretended to hold on to her, thereby not being able to shake hands.

"Friends of yours?" Neil asked, smiling at Taub.

"Yes, they're…"

"We were friends a long time ago," Tim said, covering. "My friend's not feeling well, I was just wondering if _Chris_ could help us…"

Taub nodded, turning to Neil who was immediately heading to Cuddy's side. "Really? Well, I could help," he reached for Cuddy's arm.

"No, no," Cuddy said, shaking him off as politely as she could. "_Chris_ is enough, thank you. You can go back to your party…we'll return him soon."

Neil nodded, stepping back. "Uh, okay then, uh…"

"Lily," Cuddy said, smiling slightly. "And this is my friend, Lynn. Sorry, we really have to go…I'm not feeling too well."

Neil nodded, "Okay then, I'll let Chris be the good Samaritan and I hope you feel better, Lily...so maybe I can see you again soon."

Cuddy smiled slightly as he skipped off. She eyed Taub, "Dr. Taub, come with us please…"

"Why what's going on, _Lily_?" Tim asked, scowling. She always hated her second name.

"Just…" Cuddy pretended to look sick.

Taub reached for her purse, "Okay, let's go Dr. Cuddy."

Saying goodbye to Scarlet and Tatiana (Taub ignored his lady for the night), all three of them headed to the parking lot. Taub held on to Cuddy's purse and Tim her to her Jaguar. Arriving at the parking lot, Cuddy cursed and decided to not bother with the coat, shooting her employee a look to say 'shut up and look away'.

The plastic surgeon obeyed noiselessly.

"Here we go," Tim grunted, helping Cuddy on the passenger seat, grabbing her purse from Taub and tossing it to her. "Home now…"

"Wait," Cuddy said, leaning forward. "Dr. Taub."

"This night never happened, I know, Dr. Cuddy," the doctor said dutifully.

"No, no," Cuddy said, waving a hand. "I mean, yes, but that's not why I wanted you here…that man, uh…Neil Zane?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know him?" Cuddy asked, leaning back in her seat as Taub stood closer to her, looking down at her. Tim circled to the other side and got in.

"We were…schoolmates in high school, he's a few years younger than me," Taub answered.

"He said he works for…Jameson Pharmaceuticals?" Cuddy inquired.

"Yes, CEO as a matter of fact," Taub informed her. "Listen Dr. Cuddy, what I do in my spare time is none—"

"Yes, I know," Cuddy said, bending down to reach for her phone. "But you might want this…" she tossed her phone to him. "That's Jameson's number…that guy, whoever he is…you might want to check him out."

"What?" Taub asked, curious. "How do you…we're friends, Dr. Cuddy…"

"I know," she nodded. "But I also know of your history. I'm not trying to overstep my boundaries, Dr. Taub, but I'm just telling you to be careful. Call them, ask about your friend and see."

"This is a level of paranoia I wouldn't have expected from you…"

Tim snorted, but was ignored completely.

"Call it paranoia," she said, resigned. "But it pays to be safe…I'm not asking you to do this, I'm suggesting it. House was right, _everybody lies_."

Taub hesitated a moment before copying the number into his phone. "Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"You're welcome, Dr. Taub," she managed to smile.

"And this better be the seal of this deal," Tim chirped from her seat. "You better not tell anyone, hobbit, or I am coming after you."

Taub smiled a little, "Feel better, Dr. Cuddy. Good night."

"Good night, Dr. Taub."

Tim waved and pulled out, careful not to jostle the car in the snow and drove away. Cuddy watched in the mirror as Taub stare at his phone before getting back inside the club. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping he would listen, hoping her suspicions were wrong.

"What was that about?" Tim asked just as she was starting to drift off.

"The guy claims to be working for a big pharmaceutical company," Cuddy muttered, curling on her side slightly. "But he's wearing a hundred-fifty dollar suit and wearing cheap cologne. Think that's CEO material for you?"

Tim chuckled, "And what else? For all you know, he's just cheap."

"We do a lot of business with Jameson," Cuddy yawned. "I've never heard of his name. Plus, he looked like a schmuck."

She wiped his smug smile from her mind and the feel of his hands when he tried to help her.

"Oh, nasty Lisa," Tim teased. "How do you know that hobbit wasn't faking you out?"

"He was a big deal plastic surgeon until his personal life crumbled," Cuddy said, feeling the cobwebs taking over her head. "His salary now isn't half of what he was earning…his personal life, his lifestyle has to be suffering. You'd expect him to try and find a way to improve that…"

"Hm," Tim hummed. "Aren't you being a little bit cynical?"

Cuddy shrugged, "Probably, but it's better than having his life crumble again."

"Shit," Tim said. "You _are _too nice."

Cuddy smiled, "No, I'm just a two faced bitch. If his life crumbles, House would be short a fellow and he might start another game and hire eighty people for one position."

Tim chuckled, "That's my girl."

Cuddy sighed and promptly fell asleep.

-o0o0o0o0o-

So I altered Taub's faker story a little. I hoped it worked out. Will he keep his silence about seeing Cuddy with her skirt torn in a strip club? We'll see. And what's gonna happen with that Neil Zane guy and what does it mean for Taub and Cuddy? We'll see.

And what's gonna happen with Cuddy wakes up? That's another. And will she catch the big bad wolf sleeping on her couch?

_I'm feeling a little insane…it's all the meds they've shoved down my throat._

As always, review and hopefully make me feel better.

I heard there's gonna be a storm, there's a big chance I might lose my connection to the internet agin. Shit. This is just beautiful, huh?

I hope you guys are still reading…please? I'm that pathetic, I'm willing to beg.

**Replies:**

**Huddy28 **well, here's your answer. Taub caught them, what do you think? We've got some Tims in this chapter, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for an update—I hope you didn't go through much Tim-withdrawals. *smile*

**Kakashifangrl1012 **I am very happy you liked Wilson and Cuddy catching them. I liked that one too! I had to have someone with Cuddy and Wilson was the logical choice since I had him with her at the meeting. Teehee. And about the desk, I don't think she replaced her desk on the show—we saw House touching it during Painless so I'm sure she didn't. My Cuddy here is just a little bit more dramatic…hee. LOL the "oink" scene was fun to write—I was watching Paternity from S1 when I saw that Clinic patient who House talked to about "teenee, tiny baby coffins" and the baby was just too cute and House was funny AND cute when he was playing with her. _Gribit, gribit, gribit..._

**emzypemzy **hey, sweetie! It took me a long time, as always, I'll send you a message—I'll be sure to explain thoroughly (be ready for a mini rant) why I hate the world for hating me.

**joraco14 **I am very happy you liked the Clinic scene. I love that one too! Oink!

**Shikabane-Mai **You read my fic in class? Wow, if only I had that opportunity when I was in high school…coulda saved me a lot of drool moments, especially during Physics! LOL I am very much happy you like quoting Tim…I enjoy making lines for her too. I love especially the Hilson-gay quip she had, I hope I don't sound too arrogant. I am very happy you liked the kiss—I'm not into lesbians and stuff, but it seemed to fit Tim, right? Hee, congratulations for shipping Tim/Cuddy.

**WeHaveACase **welcome to my world of insanity! I hope you stick around for the ride! *waves*

**Houselover1 **thanks so much for your reviews! I am very glad you liked that chapter. I'm very sorry for the wait! It took me forever—the forces were against me! So not fair. LOL I hope you're cousin wasn't too bothered by this chapter *laughs like an idiot*

**yoleah **your review made me blush again! I'm really sorry for the wait. The world hates me, I think…

**TopBanana **Thanks, I honestly thought it wasn't gonna be good! Glad you liked it…and I know this is going to sound dumb, but… "Sólveig"? Is that a name cause it sounds really cool! Yeah, I'm kind of an idiot…pfft! Hee.

**Tawnyleaf** Thanks for the review! I'm so glad you're in for the ride…so safe to say you won't mind if it takes a while to get to Huddy? Mind you, I swear it will—especially after this week's ep, Under My Skin…it's not very hard to picture now! *wink wink*

**Jaded27 **I'm very happy you liked the Wilson/Cuddy/House scene…I must confess, I am a big supporter of the OT3—they belong together, all three of them! (Not sexual, okay? If I'm gonna allow myself to watch some smut, it's gotta be Huddy. I love OT3's friendship best.)

**Huddy sex: HOLYSHIT. So hot. I am a full-fledged pervert now. Agh!**

So that's it, I hope you guys don't hate me. Seriously, it killed me not to be able to update (or read!) so I hope you guys will forgive me.

Please, review!

And here's a ticker: _The Sweet Escape_, means a lot to everyone in this chapter—see how it fits my players? Maybe not, it's more a coincidence anyway mixed with my insanity.

_The Sweet Escape _by _Gwen Stefani feat. Akon_


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